Just a Small Life Change

I cried all the way home from Northern Virginia to Atlanta after visiting family and friends for the Thanksgiving Holiday of 2022.  Deep, gut-tugging cries that I couldn’t stop.  I love to sing in the car when I travel, and I wanted to sing badly instead of crying, but my life felt like it was about to change dramatically.

After the pandemic, my life began to blossom careerwise, and I felt like I was working through much-needed mental and emotional work in therapy.  I felt like I had my shit together and doing things that I enjoyed doing.  For 13 years, I worked for a company where I felt comfortable and could work in several departments.  I was promoted five times, and I was on a collaborative team, and we worked together to get things done.  It wasn’t enough, though.  Outside of work, I owned my business, Amaris Vitae…professional organizing, teaching/facilitating meditations, helping clients navigate milestones and significant life transitions, and working for a well-known specialty store designing closets.  I had a busy schedule and a partner I truly adored.  I felt seen, heard, and loved.  Life was good until it wasn’t.

In the summer of 2022, I met a client designing closets.  She was a queer, single, black woman (some of my biggest supporters professionally), and just turned 50, and had a son in his teens that she adored.  She was the head of a large organization and very accomplished.  She had a sarcastic sense of humor, and neither of us could control our facial expressions, so I enjoyed collaborating with her on the design of her closet.  This is probably the demographic that I love working with the most.  Black women are stunning, always putting my name out there and encouraging me to keep going.  I will forever be their advocate and ally.  Meeting black women like this in Atlanta was probably how I was able to thrive as an entrepreneur in Atlanta.

I learned much about people during the pandemic while designing closets.  Throughout the pandemic, Marie Kondo and the Ladies of The Home Edit dominated Netflix viewership, and we began to see an uptick in people wanting to organize their homes and redo their closets. 

As a young kid, I observed EVERYTHING.  People used to think I was a shy kid, but it wasn’t that.  I wanted to observe how people acted:  Their accents, the way they chose to emphasize words when they spoke, body language, facial expressions, and how they treated others and themselves.  I have been fascinated with people and their stories for as long as I can remember.  It may be why I can get along with most people because commonalities can always be explored.  My observation alarm went off here because this client was particular.  At the same time, she was also ambiguous with some things, and the conflict was very palpable, and I immediately felt empathetic.  When clients do this, something is almost always going on in their lives that impacts their decisions.  I don’t often experience that conflict with an individual; this happens with couples with that dynamic, and it’s easy to deal with and find a compromise in this situation.  However, things need to be unearthed with one person before finding a solution.

Her closet was small and somewhat complicated, and she also needed help organizing other things around her house. I sent her my contact information and advised her to look at my services and see if she was interested in my going out there to help.  She took me up on the offer, and we scheduled an appointment for the following Tuesday.

Surprisingly, I went to her home, which was not as bad as she described.  Behind closed doors and drawers were another thing.  Her closets, dressers, and storage were busting at the seams, but she hid stuff so well.  It was only the appearance of organization.  I never saw anything like it.  As we went through her storage in her bedroom, she sat on her bed, embarrassed.  There is always a point in my business where there is a come-to-Jesus moment- it never fails.  As Amaris Vitae has a spiritual slant, there is always a spiritual moment that calls for a deeper discussion about life.  This is my gift, and people feel comfortable talking to me about deeply personal aspects of their lives.  I used to be so annoyed with it because it usually happened on the metro when I was trying to catch a bird nap or when I was gay walking at a brisk 5/6 mph down the boulevard when I’m trying to get to someplace and get stopped.  Now, I don’t mind it. 

She told me about how she moved to Atlanta and how things in her life were up in the air as she juggled the possibility of a new career, unsure where she wanted to be, and cared for an ill mother.  She was coming undone, and I could see the tears in her eyes.  When this happens, I probe to see what choice(s) give people peace when they think about it.  Usually, people know what they want to do, but doing something uncomfortable or that may change their lives ultimately complicates decisions.  Walking towards peace may require faith, bravery, and significant change, but it is ALWAYS worth it.

After talking for 45 minutes, we decided it would probably be best if she took a breath and figured out what she wanted.  I let her know that the state of her storage space reflected her inner world.  There is the appearance of having it all together, but on the inside, she was cluttered with emotions, the guilt of past decisions, and the guilt of finally starting the life that she wants but weighed down by having to care for her son and her mother. 

This encounter sent shockwaves through my life.  On the way home, I thought about how I was working full time for a company, full time in my company, and had a part-time job, and although I had a lot of energy, it was wearing me down.  I went on autopilot for the next few weeks until I couldn’t do anything.  I didn’t want to get out of bed. I was becoming a hermit, and my partner knew something was happening as I was not as talkative as usual.  I was having a breakdown, and my life didn’t look as straightforward as it did.  I didn’t want to go on vacation, and I love to travel, and my zest for life was dwindling.

I had a therapist that I LOVED, but she became expensive and no longer accepted my employer-sponsored health insurance (Insurance companies need to pay mental health professionals better…just saying).  So, I began the search for a therapist who was in network with my insurance because the emotions I began to feel were debilitating.  I needed an Iyanla “Fix My Life” moment, but I didn’t know what needed to be fixed.  I was desperate.  I found a counselor, and from the first exchange, I felt relieved for some reason.  We didn’t speak on the phone, but I was impressed by how she stood on business. 

Within the first 20 minutes of our first session, my therapist listened and listened to what I was talking about, and then she just came out and said:

“You’re dealing with abandonment!”  And then just paused.  I sat in silence for a few moments.

“Abandonment?” I said.

“Yes.  I will send you a few articles, and I want you to read them because I think it will benefit you to understand them for our next appointment.”

We began to wrap up, but I was low-key pissed.  I had a great childhood.  My parents gave me everything I needed as a kid and never let me see them struggle.  Let me not sugarcoat it.  I was hot af-High effing key. I still yearn to hear Mom’s voice, and after years of talking and praying, my dad and I were beginning to understand each other a lot more.  It was difficult losing my mom when I did because it was at a critical moment in my life when I had to make decisions about adulthood, and I was pretty lost.  At 18, I was envious of those who, out of high school, knew what degree they sought and had a plan for themselves.  Mom transitioned at the tail end of my junior year of high school when I needed to start looking at colleges, and I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life.  I sang well, so I went with that, but I had no clue what my path would be outside of the college experience. 

I remember the day when Dad sat me down in the family room and said that Mom’s cancer had metastasized, and it was like I was hit in the stomach with an anvil.  There were no tears, just disbelief.  I heard my dad speaking, but it was like the teacher in Charlie Brown.  We went to the hospital, and Mom was there on her bed, lying peacefully.  She had everyone in the room leave. I don’t recall who was there because it was all a blur, but I lay beside her and snuggled against her.  It was probably one of the first times that I got that close to her throughout her illness, as she fought cancer for about 2-3 years.  I didn’t know what to make of seeing my mom in her fragile state while she underwent chemo.  She was the glue that not only held my immediate family together but our extended family as well.  She was extraordinary, and anyone’s life was made better by talking with her.  I was angry at what I believed to be God not rescuing this beautiful person from this horrible fucking disease.  I went on autopilot in those days, pretending I was ok when I was screaming for help inside. 

Mom began to say she did all she could, but I’d have to prepare for her not being there any longer. I didn’t scream, but 2-3 years of pent-up emotions came out, and she let me get it out.  She said that Dad was on top of things and not to worry, but I was terrified.  Mom was probably the only person I felt that understood me more than anything.  Most people thought I was just an unassuming, quiet kid, but she inherently knew my gifts and talents. As much as I admired Dad and looked up to him, I didn’t know him or where to begin building our relationship.

After losing Mom, Dad and I both went through severe grief.  My coming out exacerbated that, but there was a lot that happened between us that made me push him away.  I became a serial monogamist, trying to find relationships that would fill that hole that mom’s transition left in my heart.  It never worked.  I went through life with this weight of abandonment that permeated my platonic, romantic, and work relationships.  I allowed this unresolved grief as the scapegoat as to why I couldn't finish anything or chase after the things I am passionate about. I had an impenetrable wall up, and not many could get past it, let alone recognize that it was there.  The summer of 2022 felt like I was holding my life together with duct tape and Gorilla glue, and the shit was coming undone…the sweltering Atlanta heat finally melted me down, and my life came to a halt.  In my healing through therapy, the things that I built in my life came apart, and I had to rebuild brick by brick, starting with me.  I’ve learned to examine every emotion that I have. I’m emotional and feel happiness, sadness, and everything in between much more than most.  When I wasn’t able to manage it, it can be debilitating.  Now, I can balance emotions more successfully and handle life’s turbulences with much more grace. 

In rebuilding my life, I’ve become more intentional about what I want and need.  I enjoy a simple, content life and can adapt to almost anything.  Resilience is something that I take pride in.  This decision led me to move abroad to Europe, a dream I had as a kid, browsing through encyclopedias and imagining myself in far-off places.  It was an easy decision, but the road there was tough.  I had to leave a relationship with a person that I love deeply in a devastating way.  I transitioned out of a corporate job that I thought I’d be at until retirement.  I want a peaceful life where I can afford to live long-term, and I can no longer do that as a single person in the US.  As affordable as Atlanta once was, utilities, food, and other expenses became costly. 

I was part of an international group of amazing queer men, and we co-hosted a podcast (Hopecast), and we explored the intersections of queer life and mindfulness.  All of them live in Europe in various places.  One of my cohosts, Yassir, just so happened to be back in DC, where he lived before the pandemic but was stranded in Lisbon, PT, during the pandemic, and he grew to love it.  We met up while I was back in the area, and Yassir began to describe his life and how Lisbon was.  He dropped the seed of exploration in my soul and may have just been the catalyst for me moving to Lisbon now. 

SOOO…I live in Lisbon now, ya’ll!  I know this will surprise some of you as I move through life in silence when it comes to significant decisions.  I will say that after five days of being here, I have never felt so joyous, creative, and full of life.  I brought my dog, Xola, with me; he is a deeply spiritual creature who loves to go on adventures with me.  He keeps me active, for sure. 

I will say that the months before actually moving have been the most challenging months of my life, but it came with significant healing. I'll share more about some of the things that happen over time, but the most rewarding has been understanding my Dad, our relationship, how alike we are, and how I wanted so desperately for him to take on the things that Mom did, and I realize how unfair that was. All of the decisions he's made have been for myself and my brother to be successful in life. It feels good to step into this new chapter of my life with a sense of healing between the both of us.

This is a good time to conclude this blog, but I will say that people make transitions look easy. Still, years of planning go into significant life decisions, and the people on social media oversimplify their transitions to gain more influence but don’t tell you what goes on behind the scenes.  My desire and passion in this life is to help people navigate through life transitions.  The wisdom I’ve gained through making strategic decisions, paired with my need for efficiency, laughter, and zest for life, lend themselves to dedicating my life to helping people explore self-actualization, self-awareness, and peaceful living. 

From here on out, ya’ll are about to be sicka me.  I’m ok with that, but the full expression of who I am needs to be creative and give back to people, so I intend to do.

To peace and meaningful intentions.