Identity Crisis

         Lately, I've been thinking, and maybe my mom or my 40-year-plus followers can relate, that after a major life change it's hard to get back to who you are... or were. Then there's the question of whether there's an old you that even still exists. I love being a mom and my son is the best thing to happen to me, but as he gets older and becoming his little independent stubborn toddler self, it gives me freedom to reclaim parts of my old self.

..... But who is that?

        It's no secret that we 80s babies are some of the most nostalgic out there. We long for our Saturday morning cartoons, arcades, and a time before, or on the cusp of, social media. I'm not sure if it's because our pop culture was the best (admit that it was) or because it was the last time we felt safe since a lot of us were entering adulthood as shit hit the fan. I graduated in the summer of 2001. We all know what happened that fall and the world changed forever. Hooray, welcome to adulthood!! Here's war, fear, and don't worry, as soon as you try to get on your feet, here's a recession around the corner. You know, to spice shit up a little.  

        I try to think back on the things that brought me some peace and happiness, and I legit can't remember the last time I felt absolute joy and freedom in the hobbies/ activities I loved, and when I do I feel guilty about it. Why guilt? There's a few reasons, actually. One being, some of these memories are attached to people who are no longer in my life. Unfortunately, scrubbing some of these people from my life also wiped away fond memories or tainted those memories with the realization that those people were actually harmful and not interested in being a positive confidant for me. I can think back on seeing some of my favorite bands with my, then, best friend, but I also have to remember how this person, low- key, made me feel like one of her token black friends.

        Another major reason is cancel culture. Excuse me for a moment while I rant. We live in a time where everyone gets canceled for every mistake. Don't get me wrong. People need to be held accountable for things they've done/said wrong. It's the society not giving people space to correct their mistakes and redeem themselves that get me. How can people grow if you still condemn them for things they're trying to correct. I can't imagine being some immature 13 year old tweeting something dumb for likes and retweets only to have someone dig it up 15 years later to end my career. Like what is that? Ok, end of rant. The reason that cancel culture makes me feel guilty is because a lot of the art, music, movies, etc that I (and most likely a lot of other people) enjoyed are by people who society has "canceled". I don't want to hear someone's think piece just because they heard me play Kanye's first album. We can all agree that he's a problematic mess now ( and that's being polite about it), but come on... it's College Dropout Kanye. Let me live. I think back on how I love(d) to listen to music; all genres. I enjoy(ed) concerts, traveling, movies, festivals, etc., and because of the world we live in, now, I feel like I have to reevaluate all of that. My biggest love, as a preteen, was The Beatles. It's been years since I've listened to them because now I have to look at the fact that John Lennon was an abuser. Name any rocker from the 70s and chances are they groomed their fair share of underage groupies. All of these things are terrible and unfortunately a lot of these things were a product of their time and those rockers made some really good music. Even still a lot of the sexual and overall abuse was horrid and it puts the audience in an awkward spot. I can listen to James Brown and know that he did a lot for the civil rights movement and for our people and still at the same time hope that he is in the hot place for the pain he inflicted on Tammi Terrell, let alone all the other women he abused. 

        The final major reason is now the threat of realizing our own mortality. How can you capture the things that made you happy when you were younger, when the artists that you loved growing up are all dropping like flies? We can't even watch a Marvel movie without feeling a tiny pang in your heart whenever Stan Lee does a cameo.. or a recent one and know that there won't be one. There's an extra bit of sadness if you turn on an oldies radio station and Purple Rain starts to play. The social media posts that pop up on the anniversary of Aaliyah's death, Chadwick Boseman's birthday, or where were you when you heard Michael Jackson died are enough to make you realize that some of these people never got to see the age that you are now. It makes you realize that we're all getting older and that life is short, but hell, how do you live out the rest of it now that my youth is gone?

        We go through many life changes. There's our childhood, where many of us felt safe and everything was new and magical. There comes our teenage years, where hormones turn you every which way but loose, you're trying to find out who you are while at the same time facing the anxiety of becoming an adult. Then there's adulthood. Adulthood has many different roads. For most, one of those definite roads leads to working all the fucking time. You add a relationship and kids to the mix, then where does you, the individual, go? Maybe because my son is only 2 1/2 that I don't entirely see the light at the end of the tunnel of getting back to my creative, somewhat carefree self. I feel guilty that I want to go to a concert, when I could use that money on something for him. Or feeling like a jerk because mama would love to go lay on someone's massage table, but my mom already watches him four days a week while we work. I can't possibly ask her to do it for a fifth even though I know she won't mind. He's 2 1/2 and I can count on 1 hand how many date nights my boyfriend and I have had since he's been born. So not only where did I, the individual, go, but where did mt boyfriend and I go as a unit?

        I'm looking forward to the day when I find out who post mom Asia is. I hope she's freer and holds onto her youth while not trying to completely recreate it. I really want to create all sorts of fun adventures not just for me, but for my whole family. I made a promise on the day my son was born that each year we'll travel somewhere. I want him to get a thirst for life early because I didn't get to do that when I was young. I don't want to keep him sheltered like I was. As I feel freer, I want my son to always feel that throughout his entire life. Even though I don't know who I am in this moment I do hope that, as I do for everyone, that I'm ever-changing, ever-learning, ever-growing. 

- Asia Aneka Anderson

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: Call Me If You Need Me

         That's a phrase we've all muttered before and heard from someone close to us. "Call me if you need me." I've come to realize, as I get older, that this phrase is just said to keep up appearances or something to embellish sympathy. If a loved one of someone close to you dies it's almost second nature to say "Call me if you need me" without holding onto the promise that you'll be available and also with full knowledge that the person you've said this to will feel like too much of a burden to even bother with your request. 

        My son just turned a month old a few days ago. Most days are great and exciting, but when the days are bad they are really bad. What amplifies those bad days are looking at an empty phone and noticing that after about two weeks those "How are you and baby doing?" texts have almost completely stopped, with the exception of my mom. I have to hand it to her that she reaches out every day. It makes me wonder where is everyone else, but then I know that this is also something that is not new. I look back on when I lost my home in Chicago and had to come back to Dayton. Where was everyone? When my dad died my friends were scarce. When I miscarried twice there was nobody there. When I was laid up in a hospital bed for 46 days, waiting for my son to be born, majority of people were nowhere to be found. Now with my son here we are again. People think that a few likes on his pics will suffice or sending a onesie in the mail is enough. No. Where. Are. You? They say it takes a village to raise a child, but what do you do when your village is already small and with that small village I have to be the one who has to keep connections going because if I don't the texts dry up and even then they still do anyways. It's easy for people to say to reach out if I need anything, but unless it's nothing major I'm not going to be that person constantly reaching out because I need 10 minutes to myself or a nap. In the end, just someone's name popping up on my phone with the message "Are you ok?" would be enough, but I can't even get that. 

        I do realize that a lot of this feeling lands on my shoulders. I expect others to see me drowning because, to me, I am visably crashing and burning, while others might think it looks like I have it together. The other is, the main reason adult friendships diminish, which is that life gets in the way. People have to work, have kids or other family they look after, school, errands, etc and sometimes things get thrown to wind especially if they don't see them as important. I do understand these things, but even then all of this, for me, gets thrown out the window when I see that I'm ALWAYS overlooked. It adds extra stress to me because as my maternity leave winds down I know I should get busy on looking for another job or make arrangements with my current one so that I can still be around to watch my son, if my village seems to be a little unreliable. 

        I try by taking parenting classes and reaching out to other moms. Even the other moms that are in my life have almost completely ignored me (one I even told I desperately needed mom friends and I haven't heard back since) which makes me close in on myself when it comes to building friendships with other moms I don't know through these classes. 

       Moral of the story is it doesn't pay to be loyal in friendships that seem to have run their course, and it's ok to admit when some relationships have run their course. It also doesn't benefit growing up as the black sheep and letting that persona bleed over into every other relationship. Just because I'm the black sheep in my family doesn't mean that I have to be that in my friendship circles, but that way of carrying myself followed me everywhere. It became a part of me.

        So I  march on with mommyhood. Still the mpost challenging and rewarding job I've had so far. As soul crushing as it has been, sometimes, I would not change a single thing. 

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: Not For the Weak

        Here I am a little more than two weeks into motherhood. I had no idea what I was expecting when it came to day to day with a newborn. The only intention I had was to be an understanding mom who practiced gentle parenting in order to raise a compassionate human being, but that's in the future. It's the newborn phase I wasn't prepared for and I am fighting for my life. 

        I didn't expect to feel extreme happiness one minute and extreme sadness the next. There is no in between. I find myself weeping because I can't believe this beautiful sweet little boy came from me and I find myself weeping because I'm so exhausted and frustrated and because of those emotions I dive into the deep end of mom guilt and my mind tries to convince me that I'm a shit mom. From day one when I had a hard time getting him to breastfeed, I felt I obviously had to be the issue because what mom can't breastfeed her baby like nature intended? I must be awful, right? It can't be that hormones threw my body out of whack and both me and baby are new at this. I beat myself up about that a lot in the very beginning. Not only because I felt like it should be natural, or that maybe he didn't want to bond with me, but also because there's so much shaming that goes against moms who formula feed and I desperately did not want to add to that, as if it was something I could control and as if my baby being fed should have been the priority.

        I've cried more in these past two weeks than I ever have in my entire life. I want to sit back and enjoy these moments, but instead I'm becoming detached and annoyed. Baby doesn't deserve that. He doesn't deserve a mom that's frustrated and sad. Most days are good, but it's those few that make me feel horrible. I deal with these days of mostly him and I alone and wonder why I can't be better. Then you add in words from others in my ear who said having kids isn't something I should do. Then I feel lonely and wonder if they were right. I said previously that my pregnancy was a lonely, by being in the hospital for nearly two months, but I had no idea parenthood would be the same if not moreso lonely. 

       You take all of these feelings of feeling like a crap mom and double them by feeling like a horrible partner. I have been in trauma mode since 20 weeks pregnant when I was diagnosed with vasa previa. That was 17 weeks (my c section was at 37 weeks) of knowing that at any point I could lose baby. Intercourse off the table, feeling sexy, or even tending to my partner's needs out the window. Now that the big bump is behind us it's almost like learning each other all over again, but you have this other person that puts a little bit of a stall on that. So what does my mind do? Try to convince me that my partner should go elsewhere. No one wants someone who looks like a slob all day, always sad, and chronically exhausted. Who would roll over in bed and think the former shell of a person they loved is attractive and the one they want. I then let myself get more lonely, more overwhelmed, and angry. 

        I know all this is momentary. This hardship will pass. Some things may be broken. Other bonds may become stronger. All I know is that every time I look in my little boys eyes or hear the little noises he makes my heart swells. All the shit we went through to get him here was a million and one percent worth it. I couldn't ask for anything more and he is the greatest gift I've ever gotten. I can't wait to see his little personality shine through even more because he's got such a big one already. I never thought I'd be a mom, and I'm still determined to be the best one for him. My little man deserves that and nothing, but the best. 

- Asia Aneka Anderson (c) 2022

A Look Inside My Creative Mind: Toxic Parenting

          My latest video that I uploaded a few days ago is all about toxic parenting. With this video I didn't want to go too deep in depth about personal situations, at least for now, but becoming a parent myself it made me think of some of the things I had to deal with growing up as well as what I still deal with today. Some more videos on the topic may come up in the future, especially after I have my little one and get a taste of parenthood myself. Thank you all for tuning into my content. Don't forget to like, share, and subscribe.

Mommy's Baby

        I hesitated writing anything. In all honesty, I haven't had much of the motivation to write about this or anything, for that matter. We are now in the final countdown and you'll be with us soon, little man. Less than a month to go. People keep asking me if I'm excited or if I'm ready. I haven't had a way to answer that question. Since your dad and I have gone through two losses I'm just laser-focused on the finish line. Am I excited? Yes. Am I ready? I don't know, but I know that is a typical answer for first-time parents. I have thoroughly enjoyed getting to see you through ultrasounds, especially when you FINALLY decided to give a glimpse of your squishy little face. I still giggle when you move around. I just think it is the coolest thing in the world. You kick me and I poke you back and repeat. Just like your mom always wanting to get the last word already. Your dad and I can't wait for the next step in our journey and including you in it. You're the little boy we both wanted. 

        But baby boy, your mama is still scared. Halfway through you growing in my belly we were told that I had a condition that could be fatal for you if you tried to make a surprise early entrance. As much as I wanted you to be born on the grandfather's birthday, that you'll be named after, I still didn't want anything bad to happen to you or lose you. Again even though that has been a constant in the front of my mind I still find ways to block it out and stay focused on poking at you when you kick me and me laughing when you do it back. I sit right now in a hospital room that I have been sitting in for the past three weeks and hopefully will be here for another three more until I get to see your little face. Although I am bored and sometimes sad cause mommy is alone the end goal is all worth it for you, kid. 

        I want to make you all of the promises, but mommy is human. Mommy will make mistakes. I hope in those mistakes that mommy takes the time to correct herself and apologize to you. I hope, by me, you feel encouraged. It means nothing more to me to see you be a kid, gain your independence, to feel free, and to help you reach whatever goals you want and whatever makes you happy. I want you to have the opportunities I didn't in getting to be your natural self and be proud of you. I'm already so proud of you. You have made it this far, you are beating the odds, and you just keep striving. Mommy is so stinking proud of you and you aren't even here yet. I can't wait to teach you things, read to you, play games, teach you how to cook, help you with homework (except math. I'm so sorry, boo, but mommy can't help you with that one, but I got folks that can), and everything else under the sun. The sky is the limit for you and I hope that your dad and I can make it so. For you to have balance and stability means everything to me. You deserve that and more. 

        Baby boy there's a million more things that I can say to you, but, surprisingly, your mommy doesn't have all the words to express it. All I can do right now is enjoy these last few moments where we are right now and bond with you as you roll around in my tummy. I want to take in every single moment of this. It truly went too fast as I'm scared the rest of life will go. Can we both make a promise? Let's both promise that as time goes on and as we both grow older that we will often take time to hold on to moments and not let them pass us by. I hope that I am a good mommy to you and I am forever grateful that you decided to make me your mommy. Your dad and I truly believe that you were the baby that came to us twice before and that just maybe you weren't ready before. We're more than happy that you decided to come back to us and that you did it when you, and frankly, all of us were ready. Get ready to say hello to the world, little man, but please stay in just a little bit longer. The best things take time. We love you, wiggle worm.

A Look Inside My Creative Mind: Customer Service Nightmares pt 2

 

        For the latest video that I have uploaded I continue with part two of my Customer Service nightmares video. In this video I am looking at the company aspect of customer service. The things where companies give both customers and employees the short of the stick and how they show how little they really care about both. I can see myself in the future making more videos in this series since I know that there are sooooo many of us who deal with the craziness that is customer service each and every day. Don't forget to like, share, and subscribe. 

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: Born or Made Leader

        Here we are in another year and in another job that I'm rapidly starting to despise. I hate it here. I started this job in January of 2020 after leaving a retail pharmacy job. Shortly after finishing training the world exploded. The beginning wasn't so bad. I enjoyed the fact that I genuinely enjoyed the company of everyone in my training class. I haven't felt closeness like that in a job setting for more than 10 years. Getting paid more than my previous job and better insurance didn't hurt either, but after close to a year things started to shift. The workload started to get much more than the compensation was worth. We're talking about doing tasks, that any normal job, you'd most likely need a degree or, at least, a certificate for. Then there came the feeling that is my crux at any job I've ever had, which is running into issues that I can fully see, but not be able to do anything about. I can't stand it, even though that is life. I listen to people all the time who talk about how they hate working with our company and all I can do is shrug and apologize because there's not much else I can do. I watch our company cut corners and jobs to save a buck and that's the issue that's getting worse as time goes on. Leaving my coworkers and I wondering if our jobs will be outsourced since new micromanaging policies seem to leave us stuck in a corner staring at possibly firing or pushed to just quit. I will say that I that this job for being just what I needed as Covid took over the world, because at my previous job this pandemic would have put me in a very vulnerable spot. 

        But this post isn't about my shitty jobs, which I seem to be good at picking. No, this post is about something I just realized about myself recently. That discovery is that I flourish in leadership roles. I was never meant to be in a position where I'm at the bottom of the food chain. The reason I've never realized that and, a lot of times, backed away from the kind of role is because I've been told all of my life that I am a follower. I remember being told that from a very young age by my parents and I believed it. So I stayed in the shadows and followed rules and was comfortable there. It wasn't until I was promoted with the job that I had last year that I thought it was even something that I could do. I enjoyed being a supervisor and advocating for my coworkers the best I could. I pay close attention to detail and have a strong mind for equality and justice. I know those last two have no room in a capitalistic world, but that doesn't stop me from trying. To add to that, as I was finishing up my final semesters at school I had several of my professors tell me that I'd be a great teacher. Being a teacher isn't something I've thought about since I was a kid and people would ask what I wanted to be when I grew up. That isn't necessarily a leadership role, but it does give me a platform and a role to make a difference and that is also something I seek out of life. 

        I am a creator. Creators are leaders. I hate that I allowed myself to be watered down instead of nurtured into being a person who could create paths versus walk down someone else's. I'm already powerful in my words and strong in my influence. The only next step is to have that all backed by confidence. In recent weeks I've been thinking strongly about going back to school and continuing with my creative writing degree and adding education or lit into the mix. It would be an honor to help people pave their own path. I don't care if that's in a management role, a teacher role, or a businesswoman role, but that's where my heart is and has been all this time.

        So excuse me while I try to figure out this next chapter in my journey. The next level of bettering myself and my future. It's never too late to discover new things about yourself. Most importantly it's never too late to tell yourself that you don't have to be in a spot forever. I know we all have bills and other responsibilities, but that doesn't mean that you have to sacrifice happiness and growth. Never do that. I never will. 

-Asia Aneka Anderson, 2021(c)

A Look Inside My Creative Mind: Cry Me an Entire River

In my latest video, I wanted to discuss the controversy around the Framing Britney Spears doc and the, less than ideal, apology from Justin Timberlake. Don't forget to give a like, share, and subscribe.

  

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: The Kid Needs A Break

         I had thought about making a video on my channel for this topic, but I decided to make this post while the idea was fresh on my mind. 

       About a week ago I saw a post on Facebook in a group that I'm in that deals with black women and how they handle mental illness. This mother wrote how her teenage daughter was being challenging as of late and that she was on the verge of canceling Christmas. My shock was seeing all the other women encouraging her to not get anything for her child, when I've seen many of these member's detail the hardships they had growing up with their parents not seeing them as their own person and how a child should be able to express themselves and that children can get stressed, etc. Don't get me wrong, if you have a kid that is continually disrespectful towards their parents, that's a different story and sometimes you have to take whatever punishment you see fit. When you have a kid whose attitude is out of the ordinary it makes sense to try and have a one on one with them to find the root cause. I know that trying to get a teenager to open up is like pulling teeth, but they at least deserve the opportunity to open up.

        I know that it's easier said than done and that for me it's easy to say these things because I don't have a child. I understand how challenging it can be, especially when dealing with a teenager. I still believe that parents lose sight that children go through moods and emotions like adults do. Imagine being a teenager in 2020. You can't see your friends, your education is iffy, there's no dating, and now you're primarily in the house. 2020 is hard on us as adults and I couldn't even imagine being 15 and wanting to talk to your friends in the cafeteria, or see your crush in algebra, or missing school dances and events. Everyone's lives have turned upside down and our kids don't know how to express it and even prior to covid parents rarely gave their children the opportunity to be open and honest or make mistakes, have moods, have space, etc. Even without a pandemic the thought of treating children as property or servants always irked me. The idea of hounding a kid to do certain chores and not even realizing that child may be going through something like overwhelmed with homework, a fight with a friend, or they're heartbroken, and here we are hounding them for something that can be done the next day. Teaching a child responsibility is important, and so is structure, but allow them to decompress every once in a while. Allow them to be.

        Overall, don't take Christmas away from kids this year, of all years. They deserve some type of normalcy in 2020. That's if you're able to. I know a lot of families have had their livelihoods taken away because of covid, but still let them hold on to that Christmas spirit. It also doesn't hurt to really sit down and have conversations with your kids. Don't allow your kids to be like so many of us were growing up, feeling like it was us against the world or being told that we didn't have anything to stress about as if work and bills are the only things that bring stress. I know that this post has been mostly about teens, but this goes for all kids. Toddlers can be stressed because they don't know how to tell you what's wrong and are still figuring things out. Kids in elementary school can be stressed because of trying to figure out friendships and schooling. That doesn't even factor in the kids who are going through a parent's divorce, the death of a loved one, verbal/physical abuse, disease, homelessness, etc. They are people who go through all the range of emotions as well and we as adults should be the ones to guide them through that in a healthy manner that doesn't always lead to punishment.

-Asia Aneka Anderson, 2020(c)

Tragic Best Friend Tales #5

         I reeeallly haven't done one of these in a while. I even contemplated whether or not to do this one. I decided to give the green light because, ultimately, this is how I process things, work through them, and eventually (hopefully) let go.

        Friend P I've known for, sheesh, close to 15 years or so. We have very much had our ups and downs over the years, but always manage to come back together in the end. That's just how our friendship works. There were times where we'd fall out and once we'd come back together I'd think to myself "Shouldn't we have a conversation about that?", but we'd never have a conversation and we'd move one like nothing had happened or under the notion that our friendship didn't need all that spelling out of a situation. We were good. Underneath it all, I know it's because neither of us likes confrontation and that more so, on my end, I know how sensitive she can be and I never wanted whatever I said to come out too harsh and end up hurting her. I love her. She's my best friend. So, I'd go along with not talking it out or talking it out in passing or just the surface and all would be well. 

          Our friendship fell out over everything from guys, to me moving to Chicago, to flakiness, to just overall growing apart. Even though all that we've stuck by each other through everything. P was one of the only people I could talk to about certain things that I was embarrassed to talk through with other people. She got a side of me that no one else got because of the simple fact that I knew that she would get what I was going through. We bonded over our families, with both of us having overbearing mothers and we both did the best we could to try and walk each other through those parental incidents, or at the very least find the humor in it enough for us to not feel defeated by it anymore. We knew that at least in that sense neither of us were alone. 

        This year everything is different. To blame Covid or to not blame Covid. I don't know. 2020 kind of turned us all upside down. I'm not sure if the uncertainty of this year made the friendships hard or if being apart brought things to light or maybe even a little bit of both. On my end, the hurt came from around the time of the murder of George Floyd. There was something about his death that left me depressed. Legit depressed. Be it the normal feeling of not knowing what to do when police brutality happens or the feeling of being stuck because we're in the middle of quarantine when this happened so now I'm really stuck in a state of not knowing what to do. His death left me in tears for days and then piled on the anger of seeing friends and co-workers silent. How can my white friends sit there and not say anything? I didn't get it. How can my job sit there and not say anything when you have a workplace that is primarily black? At that moment I put my foot down. I made it clear that I couldn't take the silence anymore. Unfortunately, P was one of the silent ones and it hurt my heart. It really did. With racism at an all-time high I needed more from allies than a black square. Our pain deserved more than that. It made me reflect on the times in our past that had racial undertones that I overlooked or saw as no big deal because that was my friend. I remember years ago of her crying on my shoulder about a boyfriend that was, pretty much, if not totally, a skinhead. I gave her the advice any friend would, but I always wondered why she would cry to her black friend about a guy who openly called a mixed friend of hers a "nigger". I look at most recently, a year ago, of her wanting to come work with her all the while having a coworker who was openly racist and a manager that did not want to fire her. I looked at it that my friend was trying to get me out of a position that I hated, but at the same time why set me up like that when you know I'll definitely not tolerate that? And why not go above your boss's head and report it? All of this put me into my thoughts of thinking "Does this woman really have my back as an ally or just as an almost acquaintance like friendship?" It hurt my heart to have to think to myself that maybe she doesn't. I still went through that it was the pressure of this year and being in quarantine that was making this feeling much stronger than it normally would have been pre-covid. Again, with us not liking confrontation I thought over and over in my head how do I start a conversation or how I should move past it or do I open up the dialog or wait until the opportunity presented itself. I did the latter. She once texted me to see if my job was hiring and how it was going. I told her my thoughts on my new job. Not bad, but pay not enough for what we do, and that their response on race relations really fell short. Silence. Our conversation was back and forth until I brought that up and I never got a response back from her. That really hurt. It almost said to me as if my concern about it was annoying or not worthy of a response. I didn't even know where to go at that point. Now I'm just included in mass texts for holidays, but a no thought when I respond back. I feel as though I'm a non-factor or not worth the recognition after a decade-plus friendship.

        A part of me would also notice things I'd be left out of and I overlooked it as it's something that maybe was only between her and her coworkers, but then there'd be all these pics on social media of her "and her girls" and it would often make me wonder where I fit it. Eventually, I started to just feel like the venting friend. The one you'd vent to, but not the one that was presentable enough to want around for a girl's night out. Don't get me wrong. To be that person to someone where they can be raw with you and show you their bare self is something special, but sometimes it would be nice to be around for the fun times too, not just around when you need a cry. I felt like maybe I wasn't good enough to be around these other people. It was a sucky feeling.

        I won't sit here and pretend that I'm the best friend in the world. If you look at my last TBFT you will see that is not the case. For P, I wasn't in her wedding. That wasn't her call. That was mine. I was gung ho about it until I found out the wedding was the weekend of my birthday and an evening wedding to boot. I was set to make a trip that weekend to Chicago and to take a bus in the middle of the night on a Friday, after the wedding or that Saturday morning would've caused a domino effect for the events I had planned on getting into. I chose me. My birthday plans fell through and I still went to the wedding, but not as a bridesmaid. I'm sad I didn't get to be a part of that for her. I have no regrets about anything in life, but I do wish that had gone differently. Part of me still feels like she's still upset about that and maybe wants to sever our friendship. That I can never be certain on, but it's a feeling that I have and it would be valid on her part.

        The most hurtful is that I did/do consider her son my nephew. I love that kid to bits. I'm hurt that she's about to have a little girl, and she didn't even tell me. I found out with the rest of social media. I never got a happy birthday even when she and I have a running joke on our birthdays. I'm trying to figure out navigating life without this person who was a huge part and without her child I'd grown fond of and of a child I may never meet. She was a big enough part of my life that if my boyfriend had ever wanted to propose to me she'd be one of the people he'd have to get a blessing from. 

        As I've said in other TBFT's these stories aren't all bad. I don't always focus on the negative and see that person as the enemy. These people in our lives we take with us, the good and the bad. For P I will never forget how she was there for me after my miscarriage. No one was there for me around that time like she was. She was there for me when my relationship was falling apart. I have never been able to confide in anyone like I have with her. I have many an inside joke that I'll never forget because of her. Red trucks, the best road trips, fighting in bowling alleys, and not being able to eat pizza without pineapple. That will always be a part of our friendship story. 

- Asia Aneka Anderson, 2020(c)        

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: From One to Three

        2020 has been a hard year for many, if not, all of us. Even if, like me, 2020 has given you numerous blessings, it goes without saying that this year has been nothing short of chaotic. With this year being so clouded with illness, death, and uncertainty I  still managed to make this one of my best years in the past, at least, eight years. I started January with a new job, that allowed me to work from home, once this whole pandemic blew up. I couldn't imagine working at my previous job, in a retail pharmacy, once Covid was at it's height. The amount of people I can imagine me yelling at for not having on a mask or social distancing is enough to make my head spin. I also managed to grab my degree, although I am bummed that I didn't get to have a graduation. I was really looking forward to that after all the hard work I had put in. I finally finished my novel and hope to find a publisher very soon. Also, on my birthday, in October, I got a fur baby. A little hamster that I named Lady Samwise Hamgee.

        One of the most memorable moments came from one of tragedy. Unfortunately, on October 1st I lost my favorite uncle to covid. It was a shock, and still is, almost two months later. One day after his funeral I get a facebook message saying "Hey, I think you're my sister." It was from my half brother that I hadn't see since I was about 12 years old, and even then that was the only time I had ever seen him. He had heard of our uncle's death through his mom finding the obituary and unfortunately through that they learned of our dad's death. We talked for a while on the phone and pretty much introduced ourselves. I got to hear about him, his life, and about his family. It made me sad that my dad didn't get to meet his grandkids or even more so that my brother didn't know about our dad's death. I didn't know where to look, didn't know his mother's name, or if they even still lived locally, but I still made a point to add him into our dad's obit, because, in my life or not, he was family. To add to that I also have a half sister. I had never met her (but always knew about her), but my brother was determined to find her as well, which in a matter of a few days, he had. Earlier this month I had the great opportunity to meet with them and some of their families. I'm an aunt to 12 nieces and nephews and I'm no longer an only child. Now I'm the baby. I'm so amazed at how my family seemed to grow overnight. I wish we had all met at a better time when the world wasn't under so much fear, but there's no better time in the present. I'm already psyched to go visit my brother at his home in SC once Covid is over and hopefully meet all of my sister's kids as well. I hate that it took the death of my uncle to finally connect with my siblings, but it was definitely a light in something that was really dark. Finding my big bro and sis was a big, if not the biggest, highlight of my year. I feel like a part of me that was missing is full now. I know my dad is probably glad that we all found each other. I know that he made that moment possible and I thank him for that. 

- Asia Aneka Anderson, 2020(c)

         I have done a horrible horrible job of keeping up with this blog. 2020 has had a way with making me completely bored and feeling like I have no time to do anything, all at the same time. I've spent the last several months working on my novel, which I have finished, but was also working on increasing my word count until I got word that my novel was not picked for a competition that would have given me an agent and possibly have my work published. So I just kind of eased up on the editing, for now. I'll get back to it eventually and work on the process of finding my own agent and publishing company or possibly even just self publishing. I have a few pieces I'm working on right now that I hope to get posted here in the new few days. I hope you guys have had a pretty decent year and that the rest of the year goes smoothly. 

        So guys, she's almost done! The deadline for me to submit just the first 30 pages of my novel is only a few days away. If you check my last video on my channel you'll see me talking about getting a novel finished for Graydon House Books who is looking for black writers. I have spent the last month or two writing and I'm almost done! Even though the deadline is only 4 days away I will still submit unfinished (if I'm not able to finish in the next 4 days) because they only requested people enter the first 30 pages. So far I have 17 chapters done so I think I'm in the clear lol. I know how it will end and I only hope to have 2 more chapters to do. This is my query letter and I'm excited and nervous and everything in between. I can't wait to see what happens and I can't wait to move on to the next one. Tell me what you think of the query letter. I shaved it down a lot so that it's only one page. Wish me luck!

        Hey, everyone. I know it's been a minute, but the good new is that the motivation bug has hit me. I've been working on my novel and have knocked out four chapters in the past few weeks, which brings me up to chapter either (I did the first three chapters during a novel writing class when I started back to school this year).
        I'm so incredibly excited and so very proud of myself. My goal is to have this done by a deadline for a publishing company in September*. I don't see this novel going more that 14-15 chapters so I'm very excited to be close to the end. I can't wait to share this with the world. I have been on and off working on this novel (among others) since about 2011. It's been a long road and I'm happy to see a clear path ahead of me. I have three other novels that's been sitting idle and unfinished for years as well as poetry and a few short stories that I'd like to all get out there eventually. I hope this is an amazing start to a career I've dreamed of since I was a little girl. A best selling author is the goal and a best selling author I will be.


* Black writers there are a few publishing houses that are looking for black writers and accepting submissions. Deadlines are end of August-early September depending on which one you'd like to submit to. Take a look and get your work out there https://www.bookclubbish.com/call-for-black-authors/?doing_wp_cron=1595476505.8979399204254150390625

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: Adapt, Adopt, and Improve

                         I started this blog in 2014. I got inspired to start on Blogger from seeing my best friend post her amazing artwork projects and vegan recipes among other things. I had so much of my work that I had back logged laying around in tons of journals and folders. Starting this blog offered me an outlet to share all of this work I had created. It offered me some inspiration that I had been lacking at that point in my life. Finding this space gave me the inspiration to branch out and create new and funny ways to tell my stories like my "Tragic Tales" or more recently "The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind". It gave me the opportunity to talk about topics that are important to me in ways that I hope others can relate to. I bare my soul in these topics instead of disguising myself in my characters. With my increasing need to bare my soul I got inspired to start an YouTube channel in connection with my blog. I'm still in my baby stage when it comes to my channel, but this blog gave me the confidence and motivation to take that next step. 

      I say all this because, slowly but surely, I've made progress with this blog. I may not have always known which direction I was going with it but I knew I was at least going forward. There came the Facebook page, the IG page, the YT channel, and now, my most recent step, as of last week, was buying my domain. I started with AsiaAnekaWrites.blogspot.com way back in 2014 and now I'm announcing that my domain is InsideMyCreativeMind.com. This is mine. This is my baby. I will continue to nurture her and watch her grow into something beautiful. For the people out there who take the time to read my work and watch me rant. Thank you. I appreciate your input and your warmth. Here's to a productive quarantine. I'm currently working on beefing up a poetry book to publish as well as possibly publishing my first short story. The on to much bigger and better things beyond that.

Thank you so so much for your support. 

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: In Wounded Womb

        It’s been a while. I’ve been busy graduating with my creative writing degree and starting a new job. It’s been draining to say the least and it’s been overwhelming. Still all of this in the very best way possible, but still very draining. I haven’t had the energy to write, workout, update my new YouTube channel, or create. Nothing. But here I am with a topic that I need to express and there’s no other place I would other than here. 

        On a recent visit to my therapist we spoke about how things were looking up for me. I’m a college grad finally, my job situation just got 10x better, and I can finally FINALLY see a clear path up ahead on where I want to go. Then she stopped and asked me how I was coping with my miscarriage. This was the initial reason for me seeking treatment this go round. I told her that I was okay, but honestly it still sticks with me, over a year later. It’s more in the background like a low hum that I can ignore. Then there are the triggers where that low hum becomes a screeching siren. There’s the holidays where I think about how I’d be opening presents with my kid for the very first time or decking them out in their “My first ____” outfit. There’s the due date and miscarry date that is lovely placed four days after my birthday. Then there’s the baby announcements. Those are the absolute fucking worst. I truly want to hate the people posting their good news, but I can’t hate something that is a big moment for someone else and some I know the stories of their own heartbreak. I can’t hate on that other than that’s what I want.  

        I want my happy ending too and my brain cannot process why it was taken from me. So I keep going. I live with it everyday. Alone. I carry the weight of that. Alone. I have done so since day one and I will continue to. A man, no matter how in touch he is with his feelings, will never understand that kind of heartbreak, but God I wish they could. Now, I could stray from the topic at hand and scream “Men ain’t shit”, but I won’t. That’s a different topic for a different day when my heart does not ache like it does in this moment. That way I can speak truth and not hurt. Because even though it’s a popular go to saying I would like to believe that we know that statement isn’t true.

        I bring up my miscarriage because something my therapist said stuck with me. She told me that there have been studies that link the trauma that women go through after a miscarriage is similar to PTSD and I can see that. I felt that. The pain I felt when that happened somehow surpassed the grief that I had when my father passed two years prior. I was confused how I could be more devastated from losing someone I’d never met over the man who primarily raised me. There was the guilt that I had done something wrong or that something was wrong with my body. There was the feeling that maybe it was some harsh karma coming back to bite me or the fact that I’ve said, even since I was a kid, that I didn’t want kids. That one in particular has made my grief more difficult. I often ask myself “Do I have the right to grieve something that I swore I never wanted?” Either way it felt like my fault. You take that and add the fact that I find out two months later that my partner didn’t want kids it feels like getting hit with a bus. Then I realized why that weight felt heavy on my shoulders alone. 

         I think about this miscarriage today because I found out something troubling. There was something my partner did not even 6 months after this event that has crushed me. I won’t go into detail, I’m sorry. I’m so shocked and it’s a lot for me to process at the moment. With that being said, I look back on that time in my life of losing a baby, to finding that there may not be a baby with the man I was in love with, to a rift in our relationship shortly after, then us getting back good again, a surgical procedure to have my cervix shortened to prevent cervical cancer (and also would cause problems in me getting pregnant), and then all of this within 5 months and he does something to betray my trust. Something that I have still yet to hear sorry for and only excuses. It all makes me wonder what goes through a person’s mind when they hurt someone, especially after something life altering as this. I carry all of the burden of these things yet I was betrayed in a way no one deserves. My heart hurts. 

        So, in all honesty when my therapist asked “How are you handling the miscarriage?” I’m not fine. These are the little lies we tell ourselves to get by. “I’m okay”. “I’m fine.” “It’s no big deal”. It helps us not to focus on this, but at the same time it makes those feelings linger longer. So I am not fine. I am not okay. But I’ll carry this alone. Day by day. That’s all anyone can do. For now I’ll sit in this hurt. I’ll process and heal. I’ll learn from it and grow from it. I’ll build better with it. I’ll always wonder what I would’ve had, the mom I would’ve been, and the family that would’ve been created. My heart will always yearn for that. 

By: Asia Aneka Anderson, 2020 ©

A Look Inside My Creative Mind: I QUIT! I QUIT! I QUIT!

        I did it. I quit my job. That toxic part of my life is over. A new chapter is starting. 2020 is already opening doors for me and I couldn't be more thankful. I'm just so excited to be able to breathe. My job suffocated me for entirely way too long. I appreciated the opportunity, but it was just too much drama for no reason.

A Look Inside My Creative Mind: Self Care is Mandatory

I uploaded my second video to YouTube. I talk about how I've learned that self care is important and that this is something plan to make a necessity. With all the stress we deal with in our lives whether it be work, family, school, etc we all deserve a little time to ourselves without feeling guilty about putting ourselves first.

A Look Inside My Creative Mind: YouTube Is Up!

So I finally did what I've been talking about for years. I finally set up an YouTube account in connection with my blog. It's called Look Inside My Creative Mind. I just uploaded my first video last night. Go watch and tell me what you think. I really appreciate any and all feedback!

https://youtu.be/SOETfWZ3Ig8

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: Dark but Not Spooky

        I am an October baby. A Libra through and through. Halloween is my Christmas and I love everything spooky. This year was much much different and it unfortunately altered my whole season and spirit. 

        My birthday fell on a Wednesday. I had everything all planned out. I was going to go to the amusement park the Saturday before, dinner with my mom that Sunday, and the Thursday after I was going to get into my car to go travel my second home, Chicago, for a comic con that weekend. I was, of course, looking forward to all of this. The Friday before my birthday I woke up with the feeling that my throat was on fire. Great. A cold. So no roller coasters. Instead I went to see Joker where I could barely keep my eyes open. That Sunday, even after feeling like death, I still wanted to go to dinner with my mom, but she couldn't be bothered to drive (which honestly hurt) and I didn't feel up to getting behind a wheel, so I crawled back in bed. On my actual birthday my mother managed to get under my skin about me driving on my own to Chicago... which, mind you, I'd done a ton of times when I used to live there. That Thursday morning I woke up nauseous and nervous. She had gotten to me, but I put too much money into this trip to let nerves get the best of me. Once I got on the highway everything was fine. Music was high, I felt free, and the sniffles didn't matter.... Then I get into Chicago. Once I got into the loop it was just bumper to bumper no moving. Good ol rush hour.  Every time we would go an inch my car would jerk. We'd move a little more and then she'd start to jerk and chug some more. With only less than an hour until I reached my hotel I decided to hop off the highway and just take the city streets. I reached a tunnel and at a point and, just like the movies, I see steam rise thinking it was coming from the manholes. I go several blocks and it happened again. Oh, that wasn't the street that was my car smoking. Great. By the time I got to the hotel everything seemed to spiral from there, at least in my mind. I was scared to drive my car the entire time I was  there. I checked under the hood several times a day as if I knew what I was looking for. Even if I wasn't scared I was too sick to leave my hotel room anyways. I had developed a cold sore right before the trip so I became incredibly self conscious knowing that that weekend I was supposed to take photo ops with Tessa Thompson, Brie Larson, and Jake Gyllenhall. I was convinced that everyone could see it underneath the makeup and that I just looked gross. You take the flu, feeling inadequate, and my car damn near exploding then top that with a comic con that was poorly ran and overpriced you get a pretty crappy birthday. I mean I did get to hug Jake Gyllenhall, so there is that. 

        I can't pinpoint where my happiness, I usually have for October, faded. Not sure if it's because that cold kept me from fully enjoying myself or, I forgot to mention, that the one year anniversary of my miscarriage was also that weekend. I was already feeling the effects of that weeks in advance. Pictures of babies making me cry, seeing kids out and about making my heart break and overall emotional. It's as is that feeling never really subsided a year later. It took me out as if I was just told that my baby was gone. A year later and it still hits me more than I can evern imagine. So sickness or dead baby. Which is causing me to feel like I'm drowning this time? Could be a witch's brew of it all. 

        Halloween was a bust. I was too sick to even think about a costume let alone put one together. Also where to even go. My own personal Christmas was ruined. Therefore any following holiday is ruined. Not looking forward to Thanksgiving. My family is dwindling and for sure show no signs of growing (because who knows if that can even happen, my complicated relationship, my age, and my mental health). I don't even want to think about Christmas. No motivation to even hum a carol or decorate a tree. This isn't my "bah-humbug". This is my "I just want to not exist for a little while". It's my "this is getting to be a little too much". Tis the season. 

       I'm not sure what it is about this year. I've had a few hard hits but definitely not like the past few years. I feel like 2019 has been nothing but the past three years breathing down my neck like evil spirits that refuse to leave me. They live to remind me of all I've lost and failed. Just so much death and unhappiness. Even with my hopes wavering there are few rays of sunshine. I graduate next month and no matter how I'm feeling I've come to far to fail this. But still I feel my future looks pointless and unfulfilled. I look ahead and I can't tell which direction I'm going and no matter which road I take looks like a dead end. It's very confusing because I've spent a lot of time this year trying to be a better person and I feel worse off. I suppose I still move forward. Find little joys, if possible, but I'm just so very tired. I feel defeat over anything else. Maybe it's Mercury in retrograde again or just my life being stuck. All I know is that this is more than birthday blues.

-Asia Aneka Anderson, 2019 ©️