I ain't never scared.... (ok maybe just a little)

[12/4/17 3:37pm]

Mommy: What do you want for your birthday/Christmas?

Me: Oh, I been so busy with everything going on I haven’t thought about it… Give me a bit girllll….lol

[12/4/17 4:43pm]

Mommy: He’s gone. Come to the hospital.

I don’t deal with death well. I never have. I got exposed to it too early. Early, as in being in the womb.

At 1 month in the womb when my dad took his last breath.

At 6 when my godmother died of leukemia.

At 7 with my cousin Heather.

At 8 with my great grandmother.

At 20 with my grannie Sheila.

At 25 with My grandad.

The thought of death literally gives me anxiety attacks.  Want to see me cry at the drop of a dime? ...(it’s actually not that hard)... Mention someone I love dying. I didn’t think I could be hit harder than at 30 when my grandfather passed away. I got the news in a hotel room in San Francisco. I was over 3000 miles from him and literally gasping for breathe on the floor that I couldn’t say goodbye to the most important man who has ever been in my life. After that, I was so hurt by that, I have had a slight disdain for San Fransisco. Every time I came back, I was reminded of one of the worst moments of my life. However, God has a petty sense of humor, and death has brought me back to San Francisco... to live.

My uncle was a gentle giant. He was sweet, was extremely active in the church, served in the army, and loved his whole family immensely. You saw his eyes smile before anything else, that was one of my favorite things about him. He was very composed and far from wild. He was very reserved, and if it wasn’t for us sharing a last name, you’d wonder how he was related to my loud ass. Hence why, we weren’t extremely close. We didn’t talk everyday, or have special “uncle and niece” outings. We were almost polar opposites. He had just come back from Antigua, just finished a regular uneventful Sunday dinner with my family, updating on family business that were left out of phone check-ins.... when he had a stroke in front of my family. A stroke that his body couldn't handle. A stroke that after 3 weeks in a coma... after 3 weeks of constant pleas to God from praying grandmothers, aunts, uncles, and friends, took him to our Lord. When I got to the hospital, I was actually composed. I comforted my aunt. I helped my mom make arrangements with the hospital staff. I was shocked at myself for my composure. I lowkey started to feel bad I was doing OK actually. 

Then I got home.

Alone.

And in the dead of the night, sitting up in the dark, worrying about my mom and aunts and grandma, I imagined that smile that started at his eyes, and my whole chest spazzed.

I lost it. I cried for hours. I almost went to the hospital because I had cried so I made myself dizzy and hit my head on the corner of a wall. I was sure I had a concussion and sat on the floor of my apartment at 4am, but prayed I was OK because I couldn’t bring myself to the hospital and stress my family out anymore that night. I didn't even tell them (or anyone) about that night... 

But why? I loved my uncle dearly and I missed him terribly, but why was this taking such a toll on me?

Then it hit me. My uncle was 57. My mom is 56. Shit, I am 32 and I STILL don’t know how all those years passed so quickly, so I know another 25 is gonna be here in no time. And in the grand scheme of things, all those ages don’t mean shit. When it’s your time to go, you can be 9 or 99, all that matters is the love you’ve given while here and the legacy you leave when you’re body is gone.

So, I asked myself, if I died today, what have I left? And I didn’t like the answer. 

I have regular moments of imposter syndrome that's so crippling sometimes, I have anxiety to answer emails because I don’t want to sound dumb. I have literally stopped doing work because I wasn't sure if I COULD do the work. I have such bad fear of embarrassment at times, that I avoid events or phone calls *coughormencough*. My self doubt is crippling. It’s a constant fight I face, and if we are being quite honest, I don’t win very often. Then I remember one of the last things my uncle said to my mom about getting rich. “It’s too late for us, we have to rely on the kids now”. 

 

I didn’t want to be alive saying it was “too late” for me, for anything. I decided that my Jesus year… 33.... I was going to make sure of that. I went out my comfort zone numerous times. I went on the trips, I started the podcast, I spoke on the panels, *coughIsentthenudescough*. I did the things that scared me shit less, and those things brought me to the scariest thing of all. An amazing new job at a company I admired, across the country and away from everything I love and hold dear. I cried... no bawled... throughout the whole process because this is the fear I didn’t see coming. This was multiple fears wrapped into one. I couldn’t deal.

But this is exactly what I signed up for. What I said I would push myself to overcome. This is why I am sitting in a hotel room in San Francisco (my furniture isn’t here yet), writing this as a new California resident. I remember being in bed, and I BEGGED God for Her favor. How could I be so ungrateful to question it because it didn't match my vision? It breaks my heart a little every hour to know the people I love the most are over 3,000 miles away from me. And my biggest fear is, God forbid, something happening to them and our last contact was a text or funny meme. That they didn't know how much I cared. That I'll never get to annoy them anymore and vice versa. I have to constantly fight writing 4 pages letter every hour in group chat, telling them I love them and how amazing they are and risk sounding crazier than they already think I am… but I had to go. I had to change how fear dictated my life. I had to change the answer to "what I am leaving behind?". I had to make sure that I never said “it’s too late for me”.

2018 was one of the most emotional, most trying, best years of my life. It owes me nothing and I owe it all to my uncle.

I pray every day that you are on this earth, you are doing something that you would be proud to leave behind. You aren’t letting fear navigate your path.

And when I die, I hope my legacy is I tried, no matter how imperfect (or scared) I was. And of course, Love.
xoxo, Sio

Happy Homegoing Uncle Clyde.

We don't go to the east side....

What do communities on the social, economic and environmental margins have in common? For one thing, they tend to be on the east sides of cities. In this short TED Talk about a surprising insight, anthropologist and venture capitalist Stephen DeBerry explains how both environmental and man-made factors have led to disparity by design in cities from East Palo Alto, California to East Jerusalem and beyond -- and suggests some elegant solutions to fix it.

Giving BLACK...

August 28th is Giving Black Day, a day created by the Young Black and Giving Back Institute to celebrate and elevate Young Black Philanthropist. Hundreds of nonprofit leaders and donors will come together on this day to raise funds for charitable causes and spread awareness on the importance of diversity in philanthropy.

COOL Kids, an non-profit I have worked with for years, will celebrate Giving Black Day with a fundraiser and school supply drive to benefit District 3 Harlem Public School students. Our goal is to raise $2,500 and collect school supplies for 100 students. Join us in Harlem for to help hit our goal, and share a drink with fellow philanthropists at the COOL Kids happy hour.

For a complete list of school supplies and more information about District 3 Harlem Schools visit www.coolkidsny.org.

*Turns up pre-45 Kanye's first album*

The hood prodigy (and one of my best friends) @__DaveyJones looking to help one deserving person in the US return to complete a 4-yr degree after taking time off for whatever reason - to start a family, work full-time, a slip in grades, or simply because college wasn't the right decision at that time. 

Here's what she'll cover to jumpstart your process: - Application & transcript request fees for up to 5 programs of interest - Upon acceptance, choice of tuition deposit or textbook assistance (up to $200) - Mentorship via regular check-ins throughout the application process.

"Application" deadline is Friday 9/21. Send her your real, raw story - no gimmicks - at info@thepeoplesmentor.com. All inquiries/apps will be strictly confidential. Tell a friend to tell a friend to tell an auntie/uncle. 

Happy matriculating!

You better keep that Same Energy....

So, what I thought I would never do, has happened. I am letting people on how truly a mess I am.

I started a podcast with some of my homeboys. It was just supposed to be me helping my friend get his comedy off the ground cause he is so funny and witty, and somehow it became a group chat with microphones that we decided to call Same Energy Podcast.

Two episodes so far on the most random of things from Life cereal to Gatorade to R. Kelly, to Insecure. And for those who dont know where our intro is from...

Sorry to those who have yelled at me to tell me I didn't tell them, I actually still haven't processed I am doing it. Follow our IG and Twitter too.

Also, please dont judge me.

You know you need to create to be a creative.... right?

(Spoiler alert - I forgot)

Most of you know what I do for work, and our big work conference happened in April, and I really haven't recovered from it. Sometimes I think I am on the autism spectrum because one disruption to my routine and I am no good. NONE. I then trained for the BK half marathon and took more trips than I was supposed to (or technically could afford), and have just genuinely been out of wack....



But also, I haven't felt inspired. I didn't have the usual motivation. And if I didn't have it, how was I supposed to sit here and write to you all? I would always rather be absent than inauthentic. And yes, I know the Zig Ziglar quote, (its in the "about this blog" section of the website for God's sake). I tried to force feed myself inspiration and nothing hit. I reread the fave books, and some additional ones, I worked out, I prayed (more like begged God to give me some sort of spark). And though the trips were amazing, I hoped they would clear my head for space, but they actually just made things worse. I wouldn't call it depression, but literally just a stagnant rut. I was ready to give up and just accept that being a "creative" really wasn't my thing and be happy with my 9 to 5.

Then it hit me. I wasn't actually creating.


I have a handicap... Perfection. Not saying I achieve it but if it doesn't at least SEEM perfect to me, I am discouraged and usually dismiss the idea. But a few days of not writing emails and updating this blog because I wasn't inspired, turned into weeks, that turned into months. Then I realized, it wasn't just emails. I wasn't writing at all except for work or to talk shit with my friends. I tried to even journal because I remembered one time doing a birth chart reading with mysticxlisptick and she said to me "Write. Writing is your sanity. It's what saves your life." But I still wan't moved. I tried everything to force my motivation to get these emails out to you. What else could I do? So, I hit my homegirl, who is an amazing writer, to ask her advice. And she said something that slapped me in my face.

"You are one of my favorite writers. I don't know if I have ever told you that, but you are."


I didn't start this site for me. I love helping people. It's a gift and a curse but it literally is what moves me. As much as I try to do things for me, genuinely being able to empower people makes me happy. I started small, engaging my twitter more and not just retweeting and talking to my friends. I wrote when I had an idea. I didn't wait for the whole story came to me, or was in the perfect setting to write. I just jotted little by little in my ever note. And even then, I still was thinking about abandoning Deliberate Epiphanies, cause I still wasn't sure.  Then God sent a little little nudge (as She has done a few times) via a text from Tracy G. "Love you babygirl. Have you been updating Deliberate Epiphany?"

I became this person, who I love, because I stopped being scared of fucking up. So I all that to say... We back OKURRRRRRR.

#WCW

I've wanted to do this for a little bit and what better time than the present? Yes, I love a clichè.

This coming March I'm highlighting dope women of color. I celebrate the ones I know regularly, and would love to hear about the ones you stan for too. I especially would love to hear about those who have businesses. So submit your #DeliberateWC so everyone can see their magic.

Thicker than a snicker...

A long time ago, someone send me a picture of Candice Kelly and said they thought it was me...

(this was the exact picture - y'all think every pretty thick girl is me but I digress)

She was gorgeous and had some great styles so I followed her. Today, 2.5 years later, I finally looked at her actual blog (yes, I know I'm basura) and it was worth it. Very simple but talks about fashion and her life and dealing with body positivity.  Sounds interesting? Here you go...

Call me crazy, but at least you call me...

I have been telling everyone about Therapy for Black Girls website like its my fashion nova code. It's this dope website that "is an online space dedicated to encouraging the mental wellness of Black women and girls."

Like... Thank you.

They give you access to black female therapists in your area (if you are - or know - one, please go sign-up to be on the directory) and have an amazing podcasts dedicated to different topics. It's been a great resource.

Summer bodies are made in the winter...

March is next week. Let me repeat that... March. Is. Next. Week. Here in NY, Global Warming came to say hello with 70 degree weather yesterday. If that wasn't a reminder to get your body (and mind) right, Idk what is.

Stop by #BeTheBetter website and get all things needed to get motivated. (The Cardio program and Power playlist are my favorites)

Drink di rum...

Story Time.

Let me set the scene. Trinidad. Carnival. My homegirl Fab and I are in our pajamas in bed. Exhausted. Thinking we are about to get a nap…. Then BOOM, we get word of a fete (a party for my non-West Indians) that’s supposed to be amazing. We were there deliberating like a jury on a murder case. She decided she needed the rest. However, I came here to rally so I decided to go without her. Plus, we were sharing a room so I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the alone time. So I throw on some clothes, grab my Antigua flag and my St. Vincent flag, and go to the fete with some others in the group.

The fete was amazing.  It was on a beach at sunset. DJ is poppin. Men are fine. I saw other friends who were also down there and everyone just forms a big group so its like a reunion. Also, since it was a cooler fete we brought our own liquor in and well… yeah. I’m dancing and waving my flags and someone taps me and goes “Are you really Antiguan?”.

Quick side note: Antigua isn’t that big, so anyone one the road with Antigua flag is stopping each other and embracing and exchanging last names. Also, Antigua is small but my family isn’t. Someone know someone in my family so I’ll just assume we are all cousins (97% of the time it’s accurate).

Anyways, I reply “Of course I am.” Like I’m insulted because if you know me, I rep Antigua hard. He replies the town he is from, which is a small town where my maternal grandfather is from so I KNOW he knows my family. I reply “Oh my family is from there too. My last name is Massiah”. Immediately is face changes and goes “Oh my God. I’m so sorry for your loss” and my heart dropped.

For a second, in the midst of being so happy to be on an island, being so happy to finally have a vacation, so happy to feel so free and not my usual worrying self, that we lost my uncle just two months earlier. I forgot that I almost cancelled this trip because I felt guilty not being able to go to Antigua for the funeral but going to Trinidad to drink my life my way and whine up until the sun rose. I forgot I almost missed all my tickets because I couldn’t even focus on Trinidad but decided to come to not abandon Fab (who I need to publicly acknowledge was my carnival angel because if it wasn’t for her I would have missed all the stuff).

I said a genuine but muttered thank you because now my heart was tight. The kind of tight that is guilt grabbing at you so hard you actually physically rub your chest hoping it loosens up and get some type of relief. I prayed that this was his only comment and I could turn around and take a much-needed shot of henny white. However, if you know Antiguans, it definitely was NOT his only comment.

And I thanked God profusely it wasn’t.

Apparently this man was my uncle’s friend. He was a member of the NY chapter of our villages organization that my uncle was president of.  He was actually at the funeral in NY. He hugged me and said that my uncle had mentioned me plenty of times before and what an amazing man he was. He said he was happy that I was here enjoying myself because my uncle would have never wanted me to be sad, especially because of him. He told me that they were building a memorial for amazing people from the village and his name was going to be one of the first on it.

Y’all know at this point I’m bawling in the middle of the party right?

 But not because I was upset, but relieved. Relieved because I believe my uncle sent this man to tell me stop worrying and enjoy myself. It was a message to remind me to live life to the fullest, which was the promise I made after we lost him so suddenly.  What’s crazier, is a cousin I had never met was there. So here I am crying and talking excitedly to these men in the middle of this lit ass fete, and my friends are drunk nearby, confused, wondering if they should comfort me or if they got to fight these men. I calm them down and explain to them what’s going on and now their handing me drinks (like I needed more) to make sure I’m good.

There is no real deep and profound lesson to this story except I just wanted to give everyone who reads this a necessary reminder that life is going to come with enough stress and sadness, why would you give yourself more? In the words of my dad, "live yuh life girl, and drink di rum."

Oh, and always go to the fete.

Get Out...

People really be brave...

 Rich Benjamin noticed a phenomenon: Some communities were actually getting less diverse. So he got out a map, found the whitest towns in the USA -- and moved in.

 Listen to his TED Talk as he shares what he learned as a black man in Whitopia.

#MeToo

No one is shocked by all these accusations...and anyone who is, can I borrow those rose-colored glasses?

What may cause a little pause is how one persons voice, triggered a domino effect of #MeToos

Check out this talk that gives us some insight on why people are JUST NOW being vocal about past sexual assaults

Secure the bag

Want to make some extra money on your own terms, but not ready to let go of health insurance? 401k? Groceries?

Being a full time entrepreneur is not easy. Ask anyone who is one. It is a burning passion for the product, service, or lifestyle that you can't deny. Rondel Holder, owner of soulsociety 101, tells us how to launch a business while working that 9-5.

Como se dice YERRRRRP en español?

One of my goals for 2018 is to relearn Spanish (save the Rican jokes).

If you're looking into learning something other than English for fun (or in case you are trying to run away from America and THEIR president), check out this article on best places to take language classes (NYC only)

F*&^ him then I get some money.

Everyone makes bad money mistakes.

*coughsmeincludedcoughs*

The worst thing to do is ignore them *coughslikemecough*

Check out this blog post from the Budgetnista about how to get your money to stop being funny and work on your financial health.

Baby she look like a star, but only on camera

My LinkedIn profile pic is a picture I coworker took in a conference room on portrait mode.

It looks amazing but I need to do better. And I BEEN trying to do headshots since the summer.

Randomly I met my friend at Trappy Hour in Harlem, and this company that took an AMAZING pic of me and my homie that looked like it was a photo shoot when in reality we were sweaty AF.  They are now having a sale for the remainder January. With their New Year, New Me promotion, you pay $20.18 for head shots sessions and $25 for every proof you pic! Check out their site and take that selfie off your LinkedIn profile! (NYC only)

I hate Leo's... (note: has nothing to really do with content of post)

...This is gonna hurt me to say (type) outloud...

I don't like to admit when my best friend is right. It pains me. Idc idc idc. He is a Leo and I don't need to give him any additional reasons to be extra and ammo for future arguments (cause with a Leo there will always future arguments). I actually pray this is the one post he doesn't read cause the petty to follow will be abundant. But *sigh*, a while ago, he said I was a masochist. And, I'm not gonna hold him, that might be the most accurate thing he has ever said about me. 

As many people know I have 3 jobs (update – when I originally wrote this, I had three. I now have two. Baby steps). Not three part time jobs, but a full time career and two side jobs (one of which is overnight). Why the hell would I do that to myself? Because I'm a - say it all together ladies and gentleman - masochist.

Have you ever cried on big bosoms?

I didn't make the best decisions when I was younger (but who does). I spent money on people, places, and things irresponsibly, and didn't think of the long term effects. I blame Drake and the term YOLO. When I FINALLY started to get my financial situation together, life came at me faster than someone on their third strike being chased by cops.

So I made the decision about a year or so ago to get a second job (which turned into a second and third…) and suffer for a bit so I can make up for my past mistakes. It's not a horrible idea. Mistakes happen, but its what you do about them that shape who you are right?

But here is the problem.  Why am I willingly suffering? The mind frame that I put myself in a position to SUFFER. Doesn't everyone fuck up? Does that mean we deserved to be punished? Does that mean being human comes with self inflicted hardship? Like we don't have enough external issues in life... why do we create more stress for ourselves?

It took me a while to realize that I don't have to be a martyr. Like, even when I wasn’t doing something martyr-like, I actually felt bad about it. However, it didn't make me feel better at all. I realized I can enjoy life and make the necessary compromises. We have to realize that sacrifice doesn't not equal suffering. We don't have to beat ourselves up for not fulfilling a dream. If anything we should be uplifting ourselves, especially when we make mistake, to make sure we turn that vision into a reality.

Fast forward to present day:

I got reminded of this little tidbit I wrote in my Evernote app by my Shine text this morning and I figures with the beginning of 2018 (which I have an amazing feeling about) here and this opportunity for fresh starts, you’s need the reminder too.

“You are not your mistakes, *insert your name here*. You’re much more. Remember—the best thing you can do is show up and be kind to yourself.”