2024: The Reflection

As I sit in my favorite coffee shop, tapping on the laptop that has been my lifeline for school and business for over 10 years, I'm extremely grateful to be here: alive, in sound mind, and stronger than ever. The closing season of tidings and joy has found me in deep gratitude and even deeper reflection about 2024. It was the year of several firsts, the year that I turned 30, and the year that I became my most empowered self. But before any of that, it was the year that tried to take me out.

I usually take pride in projecting positivity, but the truth is that when I reflect on this year, my mind gravitates toward the opposite direction. Why? Because for so many of us, this year was a terrible show with 4 seasons of madness. I started off the year stressed beyond belief, trying to make the best of a job role that had found me in good spirit, just for me to realize that I had been duped. I was overworked, over-criticized, and in an unpredictable cycle of gaslit applause. The very aspects of the job that were selling points to bring me onboard became a separate role for someone else. When I asked to be spoken to more respectfully, I was met with excuses and a scathing ultimatum: "If something isn't working for you, then perhaps you have to find something that does..." I didn't fall into submission, but still made it clear that I planned to continue showing up to work every day for the foreseeable future. Less than a week later, I was fired by HR on a Monday morning, just 1.5 hours into a new pay period.

That set the tone for the summer. While everyone else was outside traveling and having fun, I was in the house; unemployed, stressing, rotting, and applying for over 200 jobs while waiting for a decision on my unemployment claim. Family and friends bought me groceries, paid my bills, and kept gas in my vehicle. They included me in activities even when I couldn't pay my own way. It brings me to tears to think of their sacrifices and selflessness, especially the women who banded together to shower me with support that I was too proud and ashamed to ask for.

People often wonder why victims of trauma, regardless of the source, don't jump into action to fight back. I know now that it's because the first reaction is to be stuck in disbelief thinking, I can't believe this terrible thing is happening to me. I felt so helpless, degraded, and dirty during those months; not because I had to learn to accept the help from my loved ones, but because someone who parades around in pulpits and spaces of public service had done something so disgusting to me. Their nastiness was the direct reason why I was struggling; the same person who had damn near begged me to come work for them, had no problem treating me badly and stripping away my livelihood out of spite. It's one thing to be wronged, but it cuts so much deeper to be wronged in such a way by someone who looks like you.

August came. I had given up on the terrible job market that so many of us have become familiar with, and finally landed a part time job. Days later, I was relieved when my unemployment was finally approved, and I was able to start settling my debts. I finally had the money to get new brakes and fix the air conditioning in my car after riding on prayers and in sweat all summer. The relief was short lived; 10 days later I received a notice that my lovely employer was contesting the approval, asserting that I lost my job because of misconduct, dishonesty, and/or voluntary resignation. All lies, obviously, but this new layer of madness awakened the fire in me. I had tried to be humble, keep it cute, quiet, and let it go; but since folks decided that they wanted to rub salt into my wounds and keep messing with me, it was time to remind them of who the fuck I was.

By September, I was double employed, and adjusting to often working seven days a week. I was also stressed about the impending unemployment hearing that was scheduled for October, but still getting up every day to endure. Although I had been familiar with the struggles of educators from the outside looking in, I gained new understanding of the challenges being faced in student facing roles across the country. I began building relationships with students and trying to inspire them to do their best.

October felt like every day was a ticking time bomb toward the hearing date. I spent sleepless nights gathering the evidence I needed to defend myself, and despite my financial struggles, I lawyered up for an extra layer of protection. My heart was broken when one of my favorite aunts died, and I watched one of my favorite cousins mourn her mother. It was the first loss I'd experienced this close to home and reminded me of our mortality. I cried in the room where we did our best to give her a peaceful transition but found that tears failed me in the week that passed before her funeral. By now, I was so accustomed to bad things happening to me that I was no longer reacting to them. I was numb. And in a way, I was working very hard to stay that way; my sanity coupled with my need to keep showing up to work every day, to keep money in my pocket and prevent from being income-less again, depended on it. Such is being a Black woman in America. We have to pencil in time to show up for ourselves as it is, so who the hell has time to fall apart?

The hearing date arrived. I'll spare you the lengthy details, but just know that the hearing, which was supposed to take an hour, took nearly two as my lawyer dog walked my adversary and she exclaimed everything from, "We didn't know she was bringing representation!" to "I didn't say [the details of the situation], but I see she's briefed you on that!" After another failed attempt to paint me as the problem, she was also forced to admit on the recorded call that she once questioned my loyalty over a water bottle. It was glorious to sit back and watch the lies and shenanigans be exposed. And even more so when just days later, the decision to grant my benefits was upheld. I fought back and I won.

Unfortunately, the victory came with another blow; less than a week after my aunt's funeral, another aunt passed away. I'd just seen and hugged her when we gathered to send the first one home. She told me that she was proud of me and to keep singing; I'm grateful that there was nothing left unsaid. Her death was sudden, unexpected, and devastating. I felt the weight of it, but still, I didn't blink. My mind and body were operating on autopilot. Wake, work, eat, and sleep. Repeat.

My light got dimmer and my jokes got darker. My soul was tired. I knew it was bad when my best friend said, "When's the last time you talked to that lady?" referring to the amazing therapist that I'd also been avoiding. I scheduled a session that took place on a particularly rough day. While driving from one job to the next and scarfing down a meal at the same time, I spilled out all the details of what I'd been carrying silently for the first time. I sat there as a shell of myself; there was barely any inflection in my voice and I was almost emotionless. I knew things were bad for real when that lady hit me with, "I want to see you again next week." She urged me to practice emotional self-care and allow myself the space to feel all my emotions. I shrugged, admitting that I wasn't a phoenix and didn't feel like rising from any ashes just yet. For now, I was just laying in them, "making snow angels and shit." (It's okay to laugh at the delivery, she and I did, too.)

The floodgates finally opened that night after a rough conversation left me feeling quite small. I don't even remember what the person said, but whatever it was frustrated me so much that I finally broke. For the first time since this whole rollercoaster had begun, I cried, and cried, and cried some more. It was the kind of ugly, shaking, snotty cry that makes a child sleep for hours; turns out that it can do that to adults, too. The breakdown wasn't pretty, but it was soul cleansing and I woke up the next morning feeling much lighter. When I look back, I realize that that's when things began to turn around.

Minus the election, November and December became the best months of the year by far. I reconnected with friends I'd been missing and opened up to them about all that I'd survived. I also learned that despite my depletion and apprehension to even think about celebrating, my sisters already had plans in motion to ensure that I celebrated my upcoming 30th birthday. Those conversations brought us closer, and celebrate we did!

And now, here we are at the end. While 2024 was rough, I'd be lying if I said it was ALL bad. There were some positives sprinkled in between the madness. First, I acted in my first play ever. Months later, I also sang my first church solo since childhood; I tried to resist the call, and it became a moment of liberation in the middle of my storm. Second, my relationships got stronger. I grew closer to my siblings and stood 10 toes down for them. My closest friends and family tightened their arms around me when it mattered most, solidifying their places in my circle. Then, I met some great new people along the way. I also learned that I'm pretty good at getting this money; two years ago, I thought I was incapable of hustling like I do today, but look at me now! Lastly, I started in a career path that I SWORE I'd never touch but turned out to be pretty good at. I'm promoting knowledge, plus building young minds and hearts every day. Through it all, the most amazing part of this year was learning what I'm truly made of. Your girl might bend, but she's never going to break. For that and more, God is good, all the time.

In the new year, I look forward to peace, prosperity, and continued growth. I hope to buy a new car so I can finally let my current one rest in peace (she's been trying to go for years and I won't let her lol). I hope to increase my financial stability and pay off some debt. I also hope to grow as a businesswoman, learning to hold down my lane without being distracted by imposter syndrome or anything else. I'm hopeful that the door is opened for my goal of relocating, and health insurance would also be nice. More than anything, I hope to continue building up others while rebuilding myself.

So there it is. If you wondered why The Kultured Queen was so quiet this year, now you know that she was busy handling life, and trying to keep life from handling her. If you feel like you're stuck in the trenches, know that better days are coming. Be patient, keep being kind, and stand up for yourself. I promise things will turn around. Always be good to yourself and each other. I'm a living testament that it will always pay off.

Here's to better living, more writing, and creativity for me in 2025. Happy New Year!

Stay strong. Stay Blessed. #StayKultured