Joy. (New Beginnings)

Joy.


I used to think that, in order to be happy; I needed an audience of co-signers. I thought I needed people in my life who were willing to validate the decisions I made. It has taken 25+ years to accept that the only voice I need to hear is my own. When I replay the hateful comments and negative opinions that others shared with me, my own thoughts get muffled.

I want to celebrate this gorgeous day by encouraging you to hear your own voice.

If you aren’t surrounded by people who know how to affirm and inspire you, don’t fret. Sometimes God puts me in environments where I have to be my own best friend, my own cheerleader, my own counselor, and my own example. Years ago, I learned to love myself because I had no other choice. I learned to trust my own voice because I had no one else to confide in or trust.

Opt not to feel lonely when people around you don’t understand your plans, dreams or desires. Instead, take advantage of the quiet moments. They come to provide you with time for peace and reflection.

There have been dozens of occasions when I was surrounded by twenty or more “friends” and I felt completely alone. I felt like I had to hide behind an image that others had grown to love and admire. I lost myself while searching for acceptance. I can happily say that I am a new, healthy woman…because I endured the silence, the dark nights, and the “loneliness”.

I found sunlight and hope on the other side of self-doubt and fear. I hope that you’ll start to worry less and really live more. Leave people and their opinions behind you. Figure out what you want and deserve. Abandon your insecurities and adopt joy.



I love you. Be encouraged.

You Don't Know What Love Is.

______________________________________

Question: If it isn’t love...why can’t I sleep? Why doesn’t food have the same savory flavor that it once had? Why am I brainstorming about baby names? Why do my arms yearn to wrap around the frame of another…

Answer: Probably because I’m restless, all of my friends have summer crushes, I want somebody to go to King’s Dominion with next week, and the last person I kissed (on the cheek-of course) was my 12 year old brother and I’m pretty sure he groaned in agony when he walked away.

Look. I’m not here to entertain you. This won’t be a warm and surreal fantasy-driven rant about the ins and outs of romance. I’m here to keep it all-the-way real. So many people, in my generation, will label their hot mess of a situation “love” without hesitation. And it’s nauseating because most of us haven’t tasted love and wouldn’t know what it was if it arrived in a UPS package with a description.

When it comes to the topic of love, I am a certified disaster. I promise. If I don’t get what I want, when I want it, from the person I asked for it…I throw a tantrum that causes flames to rise and bridges to fade to ash. I’m only 25 years old and though I don’t know a lot about love…I know that love isn’t impatient and demanding.

When I talk with my girlfriends about our “relationships”, I hear so many contradictions. We all claim to be so thoughtful, sacrificial, ideal, and perfect…but so many of our desires are petty and based upon temporary satisfaction.

The reality is: there have been many nights when I laid on the couch watching Love & Basketball or listening to that redundant list of slow jams on my iPod…wishing that someone would just knock on my front door, then get down on one knee, and propose. But, I realize now, that I never really wanted the responsibility of having a husband…I just wanted to cuddle.

(That’s the real-ist thing I ever wrote).

The idea of washing someone else’s clothes, cleaning the toilet 4x a week, discussing bills, and going to marriage counseling (which is inevitable in 2011) just makes me SICK. I don’t mean…emotionally uncomfortable. I mean…disgusted, dizzy, angry, overheated, confused, and bloated.

I am pretty sure that marriage is amazing. And that’s fine. But I am really not in the hurry that I once thought I was in because, when I get paid, I like to shop…for clothes… for myself. I would rather wake up in the middle of the night to randomly check Face Book than to heat up a baby bottle or grab the Tums from the medicine cabinet for my spouse.

We’re all in such a hurry to “love” somebody when we barely like ourselves. It’s amazing because my generation is rushing toward nothing. Over half of the marriages entered in to last year will end by 2015. That’s not opinion. Those are just the facts. And what I don’t understand is…why are we programmed to rush like this? When we are in healthy friendships that could eventually graduate to marriages…we (as women) start to obsessively map some timeline that we expect men to embrace and commit to immediately. When they don’t…all of our friends and female family members tell us to kick them to the curb because they are “playing games”. It’s…so…depressing to be an 80’s baby sometimes.

Because I don’t know what love is…and no one around me seems to know either.

I don’t know what to do about it…yet. But, trust me; I’m going to figure it out. If you have any suggestions…call me. I’ll probably be laying on the couch…watching Love & Basketball or listening to that same redundant play list of slow jams. And, even though I just wrote this entire declaration about our generation, I’ll still (secretly) be waiting for Prince Charming to drop by…so we can cuddle ;-)


NNL

DEAR FEAR,

This affair has gone on long enough. You’ve owned me for 24 years and I’ve been your prisoner…your pet…your slave. But as we approach the eve of my birthday, I feel obligated to tell you that I just can’t do this anymore. I can’t spend my nights with you allowing you to whisper in my fragile ears. I can’t dream of you and imagine a life dominated by your contours.

You’ve kept me from my promises for so long. You’ve been the corrupt love of my life. I serve you night and day…from dusk till dawn. Even when I’ve managed to ride in to the sunset with courage, you hunt me down like I’m nothing more than pathetic prey.

I pray that, on this day, you’ll become a distant memory. I’ve cried long enough…I’ve held my regrets like an infant, rocking each in frail arms. You have become my everything. I can’t be with you and serve God too.

So please, take our memories…take everything we had…and leave my heart. Abandon my mind so that I might find out what this life has for me. No more baby steps…no more running against the current…I want to fly. I want to dance on the clouds and host my 26th birthday on the moon.

What I’m really trying to say…is that it’s over between us. Courage and I are in love. We’re getting married…I’m looking forward to a life of risk-taking, record-breaking and memory-making.

Find someone else to taunt, tease and torture because Natasha Nichole Lake…is moving on.

Please Stop Complaining.

Let me describe my life to you…

It’s like a lily in the valley of poverty, war, hatred, bigotry, racism, sexism, and all other prejudice. It is the well filled with living water on the highest mountain in the driest desert. My life is a glimmer of hope in a dark society where love is scarce and hope is depleting.

My life is the kind of beautiful that poets described in the early 1800’s. I have no need for daily miracles…or minor strokes of luck because my every day is deliciously complete. My very breath is unbelievable. I have the kind of joy that is not attained with monetary supplication or worldly satisfaction. I know that this mentality cannot be purchased nor developed during some 90-day program in a yoga camp in Fiji. I am joyful because one day, not long ago, I decided to be joyful. Whether or not the sun shines or I get complimented on a new outfit or a mysterious check shows up in the mailbox…I’m satisfied.

I’m happy because I’m too grateful and too wise not to be. Everywhere I look, I see destruction. Families are falling apart. Plagues are attacking crops in Asia. Deadly rashes are breaking out in Joplin as storm volunteers aim to clean up debris. The US government is more corrupt now than ever and mass rapes are devastating Africa.

Yet, this morning, I woke up in my mini-castle in suburbia with the AC creating a literal breeze in my bedroom. I had a brilliant vegan breakfast and my favorite green tea…I filled my car with the same gas that so many Americans cannot afford and I drove to the job that millions of Americans would kill to have. Each moment was filled-no-overflowing with gratitude.

There will always be a million reasons to complain. I'm American. That’s what we do. But, when we really embrace the essence of life and hone in on all that is important and imperative…Life is gorgeous.

My mama used to say, “Life is what you make it baby”…and she was right. So, I challenge you. Let’s make life good. As Oprah Winfrey would say, “live your best life.”

I choose to love this life every day because I have lived 24 years without dealing with cancer, diabetes, AIDS, unwanted pregnancy, alcohol & drug addiction, homelessness, cyclical unemployment, and many other hardships.

My life hasn’t been easy…but ease doesn’t make life awesome. My mentality makes my life awesome. On June 10, 2011, I am “publicly” refreshing my mentality about success and joy (again). It is vital that I understand what fulfillment really is…so that I’ll never be empty again.

Please be careful what you complain about…there are people all over the world…who would love to have your problems rather than their own. (Be encouraged).

...a Few Reasons Why So Many Women are Single

Hello.

My name is Natasha Nichole Lake and I'm addicted to being real...no matter what the consequence or the anticipated loss. And lately, my favorite subject happens to be male/female relationships.

I love my sister circle because it is a colorful gumbo of women from all walks of life who have accomplished so much within 20-45 years. When we get together, the sky is literally the limit because the conversation is rich, the inspiration spreads like incense smoke and our rainbow of stiletto heels are runway-ready. Simply put, we're all kinds of fabulous.

But, we're also all single.

So...I'm going to do what most women wouldn't and I'm going to be real about a few components that are prohibiting the most accomplished, sexy, faith-filled, career-driven women from owning (rather than leasing) love.


1) We're kinda crazy. (The women I know will probably roll their necks and say, "speak for yourself" through clenched teeth while reading this). But the necessary truth is...women are painfully indecisive. We want to be independent and in control of our destinies but we also demand that a man know how to be a leader and a provider. I've seen so many relationships destroyed by the "power" dynamic which leaves a man feeling castrated and a woman overwhelmed. Most power couples aren't that admirable at all because two people who deem themselves as powerful go-getters are typically both out to get whatever they want as individuals...leaving the relationship crippled. Now-don't get me wrong. Two strong and ambitious individuals can create a beautiful love story but both must be willing to put egos aside in the name of love. Women need to be willing to let men lead and men need to embrace the leadership role.(In short, we as women have to decide whether we want to wear the pumps or the pants...because we can't continue doing both).


2) We're insecure. (Yes I said it). All of that miracle weave and the wax on our freshly detailed cars...are just suppressants. Our pain is neatly tucked away in Coach, Fendi, and Louis Vuitton bags and our pasts haunt us even as we giggle and sip martinis at the finest restaurants and lounges in the world. Deep down...we're wondering what it is about us that makes us unlovable. Most of us love to use the "intimidation factor". I hear women say it daily..."men are intimidated by me so they avoid me." I'm convinced that every lonely woman has some rendition of that speech ready to throw out like a dagger during every family reunion, company luncheon, church revival, and wedding that she attends alone. It's an old and tired lullaby that puts the questions of concerned (nosey) relatives and friends to sleep.
Truthfully, there's nothing to be intimidated about because more and more women are executives, entrepreneurs, millionaires, visionaries, leaders, and successful single mothers. Most of the men that we label as "intimidated" were raised by strong women who carried the family load on their backs WHILE wearing Louboutin heels. Men aren't intimidated. They either want to be challenged or they don't. It's simple.

3) We're controlling and possessive. (Embrace the truth. Reality is a vitamin...swallow it). Any woman who has waited 20+ years for a good man has a slight tendency to get a little anxious about losing the best thing since slice bread. So...all of the gentle, debutant characteristics that were present on the first or second date...fade away and tend to be replaced by a jailor's tendencies. Her calls start to seem scheduled. What was once an attempt to call and be supportive or inquire about a long day becomes an obsession with a man's whereabouts and his schedule. When a call isn't answered or returned within minutes...a search party is formed. Random drop-bys to his job to "surprise" him and the inability to feel secure unless every text from him contains a smiley face start to collect and become a mountain of toxic habits. Women claim to want to have healthy and happy bonds with their partners but how is that possible if we try to hold hearts hostage? Love is liberating. We can't continue to try to convince men to serve life sentences...rather than an eternity in a blissful agreement to love for better or for worse.


Being single is becoming an epidemic for women around the world. No one really seems to want to be single forever but most women have given up on meeting the ideal partner. I know that there is a solution.

(I have some more insight on this dilemma and I'll share more in my next entry).

Thanks for reading :)

Sweet Surrender

I’ve attempted (thousands of times) to be the person everybody else wants me to be. But, today…I confess…once and for all that each time I attempt to be anyone and anything besides myself I fail miserably.

In 2004, my high school peers voted me “Most Likely to Succeed” because of my bright smile and vibrant spirit. At the time, I was honored. Months later, when I arrived on my college campus, I was overwhelmed and too anxious to live up to such intimidating expectations.

I never thought much about what I wanted to be while I growing up. I mentioned once that I wanted to be a minister and that didn’t go over well in my household. I wrote poetry and kept journals but I always got “caught” and my intimate thoughts earned me punishments so severe that I stopped recording my thoughts altogether. Once in high school, I earned a prominent position on the newspaper staff and thought I might prevail as a journalist so I held on to the nick name “Oprah Jr.” and wore it as a costume so that others might not harass me about who I truly was and what I hoped to become. When people asked what I wanted, I’d say “I want to be like Oprah” just to shut them up and preserve my inner-most desires. Truthfully, I didn’t know Oprah Winfrey personally back then…and I still don’t. I just loved her power and enthusiasm.

I realized this week, as her show concluded, that power expires. Each person exists for a season to shed light and spread love. Then, we leave this earth and hopefully…leave a legacy.

I’ve struggled, like most people I know, to determine what my legacy would be and how I could guarantee that my name would be in huge, bodacious lights. I’ve tried, on more than one occasion, to plot my way to stardom.

But today, I renew my mind and adjust my attitude about success. For years, I’ve been chasing some silhouette that I thought represented fulfillment. Consequently, I’ve never been satisfied or truly proud of my accomplishments. The same voices that I heard in 2004, prompting me to “succeed” are now in the back of my head defining success as financial abundance, earthly power, and a six-figure career.

My old dreams and aspirations are making the “new me” tired. I need a season of simplicity. I don’t want to new list of exhausting goals and to-do’s. I don’t want to over-exert myself in an effort to become a super star or a mogul. I just want to take my brother out to dinner once a week. I want to sit with my mom and share a good joke or two. I want to see my sister, Jada, more often and relive moments from our college years.

I want to visit cities that I’ve never eaten in and dance on the shore of beaches around the world that I’ve never enjoyed before …

I don’t want a big, complicated and busy life. I want to be who I was born to be…and do what I was born to do. I want to love people and encourage them to live purposeful lives. I don’t care if I’m in a bookstore, coffee shop, sanctuary, leasing office, or shoe store. If I can inspire someone or reaffirm delayed or battered dreams…then I’m complete.

Today, I say goodbye to a lifetime of exhausting projects and pursuits. I say goodbye to an overly ambitious voice within that has burned me out for the last time.
Everything I do from now on…will be a direct reflection of who I am and what I believe in.


(And that’s real).

Sabbatical.

Have you ever been too weary to rest? Eyes are heavy...spirit is broken...body is battered...

But laying down provides no solace and there is no peace to be found in the center of your pillow. There are moments when sleep isn't good enough and no nap is truly satisfying. Bones moan like hungry kittens and feet swell with anticipation of the next work day.

There's a type of exhaustion that some consider to be indescribable. There are days when the body rises from its slumber and washes itself then dresses itself without the mind ever being connected to the process. I know what it is to get through an 8 hour work day...then get home and have no recollection of the events that took place in the office. I call it the Robot Syndrome...(the body shows up for the work day but the mind & soul stay in bed).

This year (2011), has been the most tiring year of my life. I joke with friends and say, "I wake up-sleepy." We all laugh...awkwardly...then change the topic because there really is nothing funny about being tortured by the alarm on an iPhone 8.5 hours after going to bed and still feeling drained and burnt out.

I realized today (and every day for the past two months) that a sabbatical is as essential now as it was when I was twelve and longed for the summer break each May. This is the time of year when I used to stare out of the class room window and beg the sun to give way to the moon that I might soon welcome another day that would reveal the reality that summer was near.

I am twenty-four years old...and my back aches. My head throbs like African drums on Broadway...

I'm only sharing my ailments because there is medicine in my misery. Each ache in my body serves as a reminder that my own welfare isn't optional. I am taunted by a headache which is actually heaven-sent. Headaches fade with the aid of Excedrin. I'd rather receive gentle warnings in my 20's than ignore the vital signs until a heart attack ends my life. So, oddly enough, I'm grateful for the current discomforts.

I know that I was raised by a woman who (to this day) does not know how to relax. She is constantly moving, shaking, and making the world better through service and love. I celebrate her ambition and commitment to being a provider. But my heart yearns for a lifestyle complete with real slumber and sincere rest.

I am tired! And I don't want to be too prideful to confess that I need to be laying next to the pool, with a glass of strawberry lemonade, my Ipod and an intoxicating novel for the next few days.

Real women know how to relax. My re-dedication to me (my health and sanity)is cited here for the world to see. I have to make sure that when a sabbatical is due, I take advantage of each opportunity to rest and refuel...because I'm no good to anybody if I can't even properly function and care for my own body.

Mama, I Love You.

If you knew her, you’d know why my skin glows like the sun on a warm evening in August. You’d know why I stand tall with my chin tilted toward the sky…with the kind of confidence that only results from good breeding. You’d be able to embrace the reality that I know exactly who and whose I am. If you knew her, you’d understand why I can’t help but thank God for waking me up every morning.

Yvette M. Carty raised me with stern love, selflessness, and prayers. She’s more than my mama. She is the portal that God utilized to bring me to this world. Therefore, I thank her for my existence. Her courage speaks to me daily. My heartbeat is the result of her willingness to say yes to God, even when she had no earthly reason to believe that we would be alright. At the age of 25, she gave birth to her ministry. And for the past 25 years, she’s loved me viciously.

I have given her millions of reasons to give up on me. I strayed away from her teachings over and over again. I’ve gone my own way, determined to learn about this life the hard way…but she loved me anyway.

In spite of my stubbornness, she never stopped praying for me. I am so thankful for her life and her love for God. Without her, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I thank God for everything I’ve lived through…I thank God for a praying mama. Her love saved my life.

NNL

Dear Tomorrow,

I was once obsessed with your potential...I was unhealthy and addicted to what you could offer me. Yesterday damaged me so viciously that you became my hope for love, life, and purpose. I know now that I managed to mistreat you, in advance.

I over-analyzed every day dream, stripped every fantasy, and hassled every opportunity until I nearly destroyed any hope of ever seeing and experiencing you.

There is so much that I'm certain you will offer...so much joy that I will find in your sunrise. But for now, I'd like to just make peace with the reality that this day is just as important as you are to me.

I have headaches often, because I yearn to be with you. For some reason, I've convinced myself that you will fix everything. But I'm learning now that my frame of mind has been hindering me from thoroughly enjoying each moment of my life.

I love you. But I have to stop thinking about you so much...I need space to live for today.

I hope you'll understand.

NNL
___

I'm in Love.

...I waited 24 years for a love like yours. The kind of love that takes a shattered heart and utilizes kisses as the glue to peice me back together. Your love, so innocent and kind...so rich and sincere, made me new.

I remember searching every embrace, every compliment, and every friendship for a love like this love. I remember giving myself to those who never knew how to treat me or hold me. I remember laying where I wasn't adored and accepting what should've been unacceptable. I was, indeed, lost. I was as empty as those I surrounded myself with...as confused as those I looked to for advice.

Before I gave my heart to you and asked you to mend me, I placed it in the care of every thief, conman, gambler, pimp, and womanizer that I encountered. I wasn't only stupid, I was arrogant AND stupid. I knew everything and nothing at all. My feelings were easily heart and my ego easily bruised. When I felt insulted, I turned to my addictions. When I felt neglected, I sought refuge in arms that weren't shaped to hold me. When people attacked my character, I gave them more reasons to hate me and to ridicule me.

Yes. Before I let you love me viciously...I was a stray dog looking for affection in every alley. I was a mess, dressed in the finest fabrics. Name brands served as my shade from the heat of your hunt. I didn't want to be found. I didn't want to be saved. I thrived on the fact that I needed no one. I was filthy. I was everything they said I was...and worse.

But now...I am perfected in your grace. You helped me realize that because of your love, I am a new creature. I, in the purest form, am an awesome reflection of you. Even on my worst days, your love and mercy endures and supplements what I am not...what I don't have to give. You live and breathe and speak for me when I am too weak to utter anything but hate and complaints.

I am in love. For the first time in 24 years, I found everything that I've been looking for...you are: patient and kind and you keep no record of my wrongs. There's no envy here, no ego, and no anger. Everything I hoped to find in anyone whose path crossed with mine...

I finally found in you.

Thank you, Jesus, for purifying me. Thank you for taking my sins and using them as the wood in the furnace of my spirit. I am on fire for you, ready to change this world, because if you can wash me and set me free...I am convinced that you can help anybody.

(1 Corinthians 13)