The Last Few Months...
I haven’t picked up my writing pen since July 2022 and you’re probably thinking it was to write another book—far from it. I was learning to figure out what year 31 would mean. Some of you asked about my career, my book, and my sex life lol. Although I'm still figuring it out, I can share how the journey has been treating me thus far.
I've been embracing all things Necia and natural. I've been slowing down on the hot girl shit and simply thriving in what is already given. I'm stepping away from the glamour girl and getting into the minimalist blueprint. I've realized that sometimes nothing changes for us because we never change. We never shift into the thinking and affirming of who we need to be to thrive. But it's 2023, and we're going to leave that mindset for the streets. I’ve recently been in a seesaw race with my career and purpose. I know what I want to do, what I’m called to do, but that line is easily blurred these days. Pursuing what I want requires me to quit my job as #teacherbae to foster the growth of other black and brown children with an education system that acknowledges their experiences. I wake up with questions each day about how will I do it and how will I still manage to change the lives of young black girls that look like me. The truth is I’m scared to do that. I’m scared of failure, my potential, and being vulnerable. I’m scared because I know all that shit requires me to surrender parts of myself that I don’t want to lose just yet. I don't want to surrender to the control of anything beyond myself. However, in prayer and reflection, I'm committing myself to take the next steps behind closed doors. So yes, I am off the scene because I don't want to be seen. I don't want to share the parts of my life that God is tailoring for me.
The 30-somethings aren't that much different from the 20-somethings. People make it seem like this crazy journey to your thirties, but it's truly a diverging road to new scenery. You start to realize the shit that does matter and easily dispose of the shit that doesn't.
I can say that turning 31 has changed the way I view intimacy and romance. I do want the flowers, I want the random calls, the playlist, and the time spent watching each other do nothing. I also know that men want that as well, intimacy was never a one-way street. However, I don't care what anyone says--the sex DOES gets better in your thirties. The terms of how you get it is where the complications arise. Getting your basic human need met becomes more complicated in terms of compatibility, mindset, and satisfaction. You don't want anyone sharing your space, energy, or body. In my case, I've been banging the same guy for the last year and it is far from your traditional FWB. The age gap, distance, and differing interests are just the tip of the iceberg. On two occasions I’ve found myself wondering how things would be if our circumstances were different. However, even with that aside I can't see myself sexually seeking anyone else, excluding women. I’ll never truly understand how we got to our current point, but I will say he’s probably one of the healthiest "situationships" I’ve been in. He’s a guy who can make me laugh, make me cum, but most importantly motivate me. He truly was my friend before he was my sex partner. I will also say that he caught me in the better years of my life and I'm glad I'm able to appreciate someone with his type of influence.
31 hasn't been all sunshine, but I will say that it's consistently teaching me to water myself first and don't let everyone enjoy the fruit that falls from the tree. All gardens aren't meant to be visited by those who seek it.