You Can’t Build an Archive Made of Nothing

Well, well, well…we're halfway through the year, and that business plan isn't finished yet, is it?

How about that book? 

Thoughts on that promotion? Sending out the resume? 

Have you considered picking up that passion project again? Reaching out to the old contact who raved about your ideas, but it wasn't the right time? 

Nooooooo, not that old contact. 

It's time. 

I've been an unofficial entrepreneur for 10 years, and an official one for 6. I've been an author for 10 years. I've been in my industry for 10 years, and went and got a Masters, like Black women do. 🤏🏾

And, none of that makes it easier for me to talk about my work, sell my skills, think my books are worthy, or believe my talent is enough. But at least I can look around and be proud that I took the first step and kept walking. 

This week, I finally finished uploading all my stories to www.domwritenow.com. My site now houses almost everything I've ever written and shared publicly. It shows when I was in my groove, and when I slowed way too far down. It shows my journey and how I've grown as a storyteller, a mother, and a believer. It shows my highs and my lows and shares every lesson in all of them. 

The point here is, you can't have an archive made of nothing. I remember when Dr. Yashmina White said to me, “The goal is to die empty." Meaning, use everything God gave you. 

I can't speak for all of you, but I know one fear about starting something is “What if it fails?”. I have an answer for that. If it fails, you still have the experience, the proof of life, the story you created, the insights you gained. 

Some of my imposter syndrome comes from the fact that I've written 4 books, but haven't sold many compared to…like, Michelle Obama or Kennedy Ryan or Toni Morrison...like, dang. 🙄 But I do know, without a shadow of a doubt, that my books can change lives, courses, perspectives, and perceptions. 

It did it for me. 

In my twenties, I wrote eight rules for myself and every young woman I knew and didn't know. Worth. Standards. Purpose. Power. Learning to listen to myself and every positive voice around me. I put it all in a book: The Words I Didn't Listen To. I wrote it like I'd figured it out... like knowing was the same as living.

Years later, I reread my own book.

And it told me to get the divorce.

I read words I had written, and they almost didn't feel like mine anymore. They felt like someone else's voice, reaching back to hand me the permission I hadn't been ready to take the first time.  

When I took the step, I was left with Hope After Heartbreak: the book I wrote as a reminder to all of us that the end of something doesn't mean the end of you. 

With all of that experience and all of that writing, it can feel like failure to even have to look back and see that you really didn't listen. But, what's worse is looking around and seeing other people in your previous position and doing nothing to get them out of it with the knowledge you have. 

Still Didn't Listen lives in the space between those two books. It's for the person who stayed past the knowing. Who made themselves smaller in the name of love. Who's still finding the way back to the voice they ignored the first time. It's for the people who, like me, need the reminder that you're allowed to listen now, even if you didn't listen then.

And if you don't need a reminder like that, we all need a reminder like this: put out into the world what's in you. It's of no use cooped up inside. Write on paper. Think out loud. Ask for referrals. Post your work. Gather your content. Record that track. Get the LLC. Talk to the financial advisor. Go back to school. 

Write the vision, be a doer. 

I'm not playing with y'all. See you on the other side of something. 😉