I can take the pain… Oops, I did it again

Life is learning from mistakes

And I got what it takes

To stay in the game

Baby you can’t complain

Life’s a journey

Don’t do folks dirty

I’m not saying nothing new

Cuz you know it’s the truth

I’m tired of keeping myself away from you

These are partial lyrics from a song I wrote in 2021 titled “Knocked Down,” a love letter to my 13 year old self. She was always so sure of her capabilities, so ambitious, so studious, so confident, and so very aware that it rubbed a lot of insecure people the wrong way.

Around the same time, I was asked to make my first dream book. I did not realize that the visions I was writing, cutting and pasting would manifest into many of the things that I have today.

I pasted a mini van and Lincoln Navigator because I wanted a large family and a car that was chiefly designed by a Black man. I wanted to be an architect because I was good at drawing and solving math problems. And to date, I have helped international brands, organizations, and even friends structurally build out the visions for their businesses and how to authentically connect and collaborate with their desired audiences — and never even finished my associates degree.

Since I learned how to read and write before I went to school, it afforded me the opportunity to be in spaces that cultivated my creativity and encouraged my big picture thinking. Most of my formative years in school were spent away from my peers, and me at the helm of my own learning experiences. I learned early that a love for learning was the key to life and that unconventionality would shape my lifestyle.

I also had to learn that while it was God’s plan, I was conditioned to be in such a rush to achieve, acquire, and accomplish, that I hadn’t learned how to pace myself. I hadn’t done my part of calculating risks and thoroughly planning it out what I thought would become of my life. And when you fail to plan, you certainly plan to fail. But that’s life and a lesson we all either buy ourselves or borrow from someone else’s experience.

Fast forward to the height of the pandemic in 2020, I had the honor and privilege of building a team of eight incredible individuals to form a digital magazine for artists to showcase their work and form a movement to financially assist those that are most underrepresented and underserved in our society. At the same time, four out of five of my children were home all day with me, and we were nowhere near prepared to endure virtual school hell.

But I believed so much in my work, the mission of the magazine and the positive impact it would provide, as did my team, that we rushed a baby to be born that deserved more time to mature. We did some amazing work and highlighted some beautiful works of art and its artists, and even though I dismantled the project, I still honor the work we collaborated on as it continues to live on Instagram.

Dismantling the magazine was a devastating loss for me. A loss I took all too personal. So being the problem solver I am, I went to therapy in order to help shift my perspective on the situation. I had given my all, was at the height of my own career as I was recognized by The Tory Burch Foundation as an “Ambitious Woman in Business,” and to me, failure wasn’t an option. I didn’t know how to pivot and relinquish control of the fixed vision that I had for what I thought was my dream coming true. I not only lost the project, but I lost friends, I lost connections, and I almost lost my damn mind. (Thank God I didn’t.)

Entrepreneurship looks different for everyone. While juggling motherhood, marriage and business has seemed to be mission impossible, I have been very fortunate to have family and friends that continue to provide unwavering support and encouragement — even through my many mistakes and miscalculated blunders.

One of my goals this year was to master the art of delegation, as it was incredibly difficult to embrace while team building. I had mastered working alone, but successful entrepreneurship requires working with others.

Because of my aversion to being good at a lot of things, I left little room for my family and colleagues to help me share my load of responsibility. When they asked to help, I didn’t trust them to do the level I expected from myself, so I would do most things myself.

That is the ultimate recipe for disaster. Then as the pandemic hit, severe burn out hit me even harder, and I dismantled my creative business, necieDIMPLE. I took time away from building ideas to rebuild my shattered confidence, severed familial relationships, and remember my why.

I started my entrepreneurial journey because I wanted my children and future generations to see what was possible. I wanted, and still aspire to be an authentic example of betting on yourself and having the courage to take a thought/idea and bring it to life. My mother taught me that the only limits in life are ones you place yourself. She, as well as all the women in my family, are living testimonies of incredible triumph and strength. She taught me that your only superpower is owning who God created you to be, which will always look, feel and be unique.

It came as no surprise that my oldest daughter took the slime she received for Christmas and sold it to her classmates after they returned from the holiday break. The look on her face when she saw what could happen when you embrace opportunity and provide a product that people loved and wanted let me know my efforts were not in vain. It reignited my why and gave me the confidence to never give up on my dreams.

I talk a lot, write a lot, express my emotions a lot through song and dance. I love to create art, music, photography, and unforgettable experiences with anyone I meet. I share the same birthday as Kanye West and Sir Timothy John Berners-Lee, the inventor of the world wide web, and have always felt that the connection in the work I do and who I am, is also connected to them — innovative, inspirational, genius and misunderstood by people who have yet to understand themselves.

Entrepreneurship is not for the weak, the lazy, the easily discouraged, or the selfish, looking for only what he can get. It is strictly reserved for those who believe in a vision far greater than themselves and willing to take the bumps and bruises along the way in order to forge a path most are not yet strong enough to take.

As Kobe Bryant so eloquently said, “…the dream is the journey, not the destination.”

So I ask, “What’s your why?” Are you brave enough to share in the comments?