Breakups, Breakthroughs and Beyonce

I hadn’t felt the weight of an album in years — the personal significance of ‘Renaissance’ went beyond the divine. There was something uniquely hopeful, energetic, and aligned in the music. Right place, right time.

With its release, ‘Renaissance’ helped propel an almost 2-year healing journey I started in February 2022 after being swept up in a whirlwind love bomb. The details of the breakup matter far less than the outcome.

This curveball sent me spiraling into three-month depression — the kind where eating became optional — resulting in an 11 lbs weight loss on an already small-framed body.

My decision to move to Chicago was meant to bring newfound stability; a liberating shift from a 10-year chase through multiple cities. Trying to find my footing in an unfamiliar environment clashed with the absence of an onsite support system while I was at my most vulnerable.

Those in my circle — family and friends — heard the story repeatedly; they helped fill in the gaps from a distance. There was something about this breakup that broke my soul.

The rose-colored glasses came off. Whatever mirage my mind had conjured up, faded. This wasn’t the first time I fell for the okey doke, but it would damn sure be the last.

Nights were heavy. My brain never really shut down. I became a useless employee during the work day, dragging ass to do the bare minimum. I’m not a bot that throws themselves into number crunching as a distraction — my wiring isn’t set up that way. Instead, I spent most of my days hidden behind a stoic avatar, speaking only when spoken to in meetings.

Unsurprisingly, old habits entered the chat; I can count on them to resurface in a time of crisis. The Pakastani clerk at a close by convenience store knew my name and cigarette brand by week three.

Every morning I walked across the street to McDonalds, got a small coffee with cream, two caramel flavored pumps and an ice cube. Heading back toward my 20th-century style brick building, I stood in the entry way of an adjacent, abandoned retail space. I waited for him to drive by in his white SUV.

A complete fucking delusion. He lived several miles south of my neighborhood and was in the process of relocating to another state.

“He’s not coming back, dummy. He’s gone.” Using my free hand, I lit up the square dangling from the corner of my mouth.

After logging off from work for the day, I melted into my bed to binge watch Grey’s Anatomy through season nine and later Sex and the City in its entirety for the fourth time. One was new to me — I missed Grey’s initial broadcast back in the day — the other is my depression go-to: predicable and familiar.

Netflix introduced a series of reality shows that acted as comforting companions. ‘Love is Blind’ season two was the uncensored garbage I needed — it brought back memories of grade school sick days and three hour blocks of trash tv. Predicable and familiar.

Spring opened a new beginning when the sun stayed out a little longer to play. The sun made it easier to peek my head out. To see people again. To bathe in the energy and smell it in the city.

Throughout most of the winter season, I sank deeper into my brand-new Casper mattress, ruminating on the who, what, when, where’s, and whys. Of everything. For several years, I let the heaviness of unfulfilling relationships burden my spirit. I recognized the emotional toll I paid from connections that were unbalanced or lacked seriousness or had unmet expectations or were short lived.

Some were fun and exciting; most were draining and distracting. Realizing there was little I could do about the past, I decided to leave retribution to karma. I believe the universe will always seek equilibrium, whatever that looks like.

In terms of mental health, I dedicated several years to therapy after experiencing a hemorrhagic stroke in 2012. At that point, it was almost required that I stay focused on the present. I hesitated to go any further, any deeper — I was already dealing with the fact that death came knocking at 24.

Every aging advocate who listen to my hurt became a calm luminary. I appreciated their guidance and wisdom but as helpful as they were, I understood I’d been swimming in shallow waters for too long. It was time to turn inward authentically and stand up.

There’s more to uncover: body. mind. soul.

BODY:

Early on, the breakup syphoned a lot of my mental energy; I didn’t have it in me to boil water let alone cook a meal and fast food was not sustainable. I eventually found a meal delivery service coupon while researching how-to-deal-with-a-breakup on a reddit forum.

Late spring 2022, I came across an outdoor social group via Instagram. Similar to me, this group was new to the area and was made up of people from diverse backgrounds and occupations. Folks in their 20s, 30s, and 40s all equally interested in getting the hell out of the city for a bit to socialize and adventure.

The group leads were welcoming and made a first-timer feel much less intimidated. I missed that kind of exploration. During my stint in Seattle, I tapped into an outdoorsy part of myself I didn’t know existed.

I thought I lost that element as the pandemic progressed. I wanted that part to return.

Fall of 2022, I committed to prioritizing fitness when I joind my neighborhood gym. Everyone swears it does wonders for your mental health; the stress reduction and release of endorphins are supposed to elevate your mood. I can attest that moving my body, stretching my body, sweating, lifting for my body, seeing the actual results — my sculpted frame — literally feeling the muscle growth through the temporary pain, lifted my spirits.

I wanted to feel physically stronger and if I’m being honest, look good naked. I wanted to set a goal and see it through, all the way, and promised to give myself compassion if I didn’t cross the finish line.

My circadian rhythm favors the early hours of the morning — since the pandemic, she set the hours back earlier than normal. The gym location made it even more convenient. I would often tell myself:

You naturally get up at 5am. No alarms. You’re not going to fall back asleep. You’ve tried. The gym is a 5-minute walk. They open at 5:30am. Get up. Get dressed. Go to the gym. You’re already up. It’s small. It’s quiet. Just go.

So I went. And kept going three to four days out of the week.

Lasty, I pulled the trigger on one of the boldest ways for a woman to show the world ‘I’m not fucking around’: I cut my hair. All of it. Ya’ll know how that goes.

MIND:

I arrived in Chicago with very little personal connections. Some of my much-older family members live in the city, though I wasn’t accustomed to seeing them unless there had been some sort of family function or tragedy.

A few old collegemates were around that I contacted, but for the most part, I was on my own to rebuild a social life. I activated Bumble for dating followed by BumbleBFF for friends, successfully connecting with a handful of women. It was hit or miss for the men — I wasn’t ready to be dating and my choices reflected that.

I read (and reread) a lot of books during this time: an entire collection of Bell Hooks, most notably, “All About Love,” exploring the complexities of love and how it manifests. I always read it with new eyes. More open eyes.

A podcast comedy host I listen to recommended “Codependent No More,” by Melody Beattie in an episode — I requested the audio form from the library that same day. Beattie’s book has become one of the most potent pieces of work I’ve read, shedding light on my own behavior and why I continued to fall into repeated cycles. In every chapter, my mind was blown. The tears would fall as I felt an unshakable resonance.

Opinions float in the ethos about TikTok/Instagram therapists; I don’t always agree with their points of view, but I did find TherapyJeff (@therapyjeff), Dr. Rachel Greenberg (Dr. Rachel) and Dr. Imani Tutt (Imani Intouch) to be reassuring. Other well regarded, reputable wellness influencers in this space include Jillian Turecki (Jillian Turecki), Dr. Shante Holley (@drshantesays) and Dr. Trish (@dr.trishferrer). I have pieces of their content saved in an Instagram folder to reflect on when needed.

Armed with the information I learned about myself, I set out to find a new therapist — someone bold, more direct, more honest and more brown. I found him: a straightforward, queer, POC, male psychologist to guide me through my past. I knew there were deeper issues and core beliefs I had to let go of. It was clear that what I was previously doing, no longer worked. Most importantly: I was ready.

SOUL:

After my 2012 stroke, it’s no surprise that I’ve cultivated a deeper sense of spirituality, relying on a heighten consciousness to move my chess pieces.

Even with awareness, I grappled with moments of doubt, making my own connection to self paradoxical at times. In my experience, when the focus becomes too external, I become untethered.

With so much upset worldwide, I felt the ache of a shifting paradigm. It’s a heavy burden. The content I consumed pointed to significant changes happening on a spiritual level. I wondered about my own path and came across two concepts: one known as Dark Night of the Soul — a spiritual purification process that can bring a period internal turmoil and deep transformation — the other, Shadow Work: the recognition and integration of hidden aspects of oneself for personal growth. They are not the same but share overlapping themes that manifest in different frameworks.

The breakup served as the catalyst. It was never about him. It was about what he represented.

‘Renaissance’ debuted July 29, 2022 in the heart of my search. As a fan of Beyonce since her Destiny’s Child days, I’ve witnessed her evolution in vulnerability and artistry, especially after her 2013 self-titled album.

‘Renaissance’ hit different for me; it struck a chord — a thick and loud one. The fusion of genres, intricate beats and melodies that delivered rhythmic dance tracks, transcended conventional pop music. This dynamic interplay of sound wove in between her supportive, relatable, uplifting lyrics.

I needed this. WE needed this.

COZY:

Been down, been up, been broke, broke down, bounced back
Been off, been on, been back, what you know about that?
Been the light, been dark, been the truth, been that King Bey energy
I been thick, been fine, still a ten, still here, that’s all me

One morning, I pushed myself to the limit, running as fast as I could on the treadmill to BREAK MY SOUL in an empty gym.

I cried the ugliest cry for myself.

I’m lookin’ for motivation
I’m lookin’ for a new foundation, yeah
And I’m on that new vibration
I’m buildin’ my own foundation, yeah
You won’t break my soul, I’m tellin’ everybody
Everybody, Everybody, Everybody

CHURCH GIRL:

I’m finally on the other side, I finally found the urge to smile
Swimmin’ through the oceans of tears we cried

She ends on:

I ain’t tryna hurt nobody
Trying to bring the life up in your body

And I felt that.

A friend of mine and I would join the queue of fans waiting for a chance to see the Queen, live for her world tour. At my core, I am a music person. Someone who has a profound appreciation of sound, how it fills us emotionally and floods the body with dynamism.

‘Renaissance’ was my first and probably last stadium concert. The other three legends are gone — she is the only one left. I don’t need to see anyone else.

February 2023, I secured tickets to the Los Angeles show for Saturday, September 2. Beyond the excitement of attending a performance of this magnitude, this trip would mark my first time in L.A.

As late spring transitioned into summer 2023, I continued noticing synchronicities and weird coincidences from the universe. An overlay of the mantra ‘let go of what no longer serves you,’ reverberated everywhere. These small nods from ‘source’ created my personal theme for the next 90 days or so. I understood the assignment and kept mental notes when a new piece of data gave me clarity.

August 2023 was meant to be a cleanse and release month as my organic summer high began to fade out. Astrologically, Earth had been going through major planetary shifts, pushing all corners of life up against a preverbal wall.

The month led with a rough start. A buildup of historical family drama hit its’ peak and shifted my mental focus. Unfortunately, it followed me to and through the concert. Despite tensions, I was determined to push through preparations for this full-circle moment.

Doing so meant removing anything that caused imbalance: coffee, cannabis, people, takeout, and integrating practices to restore: meditate, tea, preparing my own food.

Although my intentions were honest and in good faith, I had a difficult time staying the course. The heavy hit from the outside was too painful to ignore. I tried my best to stick to the cleanse, but my vices returned, albeit at a much lower level. Granting myself grace, I opted for a more realistic approach, moving toward reduction rather than complete elimination.

I was excited but couldn’t quite touch the kind of excitement I anticipated. Ready, but not as ready as I wanted to be. Mentally, I was hanging on by a shoe string.

Overwhelmed by the recognition of trauma, I found myself ill-equipped to handle that during this moment. It pissed me off and made me incredibly sad. I’ve never been someone who compartmentalizes — everything tends to bleed into each other. I’d executed my cleanse at a good enough level, but I still had a cross to bear on my back; it seemed as though I had another fire to run through.

SHOWTIME

Scores of fans dressed down in waves of illuminous silver and sparkle ensembles blending seamlessly with the country-western aesthetic, just as the Queen commanded.

There was a noticeable buzz, an aliveness that covered the night. We were ready. The crowd knew the lyrics, word for word, and sang in unison. We danced with abandon, tears wrapped in bliss.

The Queen had her mic on as she graced the stage in front of an imaginative and bold set. Her transitions were fluid. Her movements in sync.

Estrogen levels soared creating a magical atmosphere that kept the crowd present. For just a few hours, my reality was removed and replaced with an Afrofuturist essence, bringing pure joy.

Collective joy.

I stayed in L.A. over Labor Day weekend through to the following week. Although I wasn’t able to fully immerse myself into the experience from top to bottom — or even share the experience with my family like I intended — I was grateful for experience.

Embracing the messaging of this album — the liberation, the acceptance, the love — recognizing the work I’ve pour into myself over the past 2 years, has help give me relief. And release.

Acknowledge the truth. Honor the truth and let go.

We go ‘round in circles, ‘round in circles
Searchin’ for love (‘round in circles)
We go up and down, lost and found (‘round in circles)
Searchin’ for love (yeah, yeah)
Looking for something that lives inside me