The Road to Half A Century

The Road to Half a Century: A Journey Through Grief, Lies, and Liberation

Ah, as the Road to Half a Century comes closer I have no choice but to reflect!…

Watching a loved one die is a life-altering experience, but when it’s your parent? It’s like trying to describe a rare vintage wine to someone who thinks “boxed” means gourmet. Honestly, it’s indescribable. The day my father passed away felt like I died a little too—specifically the parts of me that spent years shrinking down to fit into spaces where I never belonged. Picture me at a family gathering, like that one cousin who shows up uninvited and makes things awkward—yeah, that was my existence, hiding my true self just to make everyone else comfortable.

And let’s not even start on family drama! I had to endure a lifetime of lies about who my biological father was, all while my relatives treated me like I had cooties. Can you imagine being ostracized your whole life and then showing up to a family event only to find them trying to stir the pot? It’s like being thrown into a bad reality show where the plot twist is that you’re the main character, and the audience is loving the chaos!

Therapy was my saving grace. I had the same therapist for nearly ten years, and honestly, she felt more like a friend than a hired professional. Talking to her was easier than ordering takeout. Thanks to her, I learned I wasn’t broken; I was just tangled up like the last set of Christmas lights you try to plug in after a year in storage. And here’s a truth bomb: just because someone gave birth to you doesn’t mean they deserve a front-row seat in your life. Some mothers are simply surrogates—like a budget option that got you here, and then it’s “See ya!”

I appreciate my therapist and what we had, but like a good WiFi connection, our bond has been disconnected. It wasn’t my fault, but acceptance is part of the journey, right?

Then came my moment of reckoning: I took a long look in the mirror and thought, “Who is this stranger?” Years of shrinking myself, showing up as a shell of who I really am, keeping quiet to maintain some semblance of peace (while that peace slowly suffocated me) were over. I don’t see the weak, sad, confused Cookie anymore; I see Enid, the warrior! A woman who’s intuitive, multifaceted, strong, humble, loud, and unapologetically beautiful. I’ve learned to take responsibility for my past decisions, including raising my kids from a place of emotional immaturity. And guess what? I’ve taken my power back—no one is allowed to penetrate my walls, figuratively or literally!

This year has been a massive awakening regarding relationships and friendships. I love my friends and close relatives, but let’s get real: if you’re gossiping, drinking your sorrows away, or being part of the problem instead of the solution, it’s time for you to exit stage left! I’m aligning with those who practice self-love, enjoy nature, and are spiritually in tune. My tribe needs to reflect the energy I’m putting out there.

Now, let’s talk about TiTi Cookie Co. — thriving for over two years and gaining a few new nieces and nephews plus clients along the way. But let’s be honest: organization? A total circus. People love to come up to me and rattle off what I can do for them, but if there’s no deposit or contract? Honey, that’s a hard pass! I love pouring into others, but you can’t pour from an empty cup. I’m cool with bartering, but free? Nope! That’s not happening! Consider it a learning experience; I know what’s expected of me now. My brand is only as good as I am. So, moving forward, I’m focusing on myself, my brand, and my sanity first. Watch out, world, because the new TiTi Cookie Co. is coming to you with a vengeance!

Let’s address the elephant in the room: it’s been almost four years since I’ve seen my daughter and nearly a year since I’ve held my granddaughters. As much as I try to shove those feelings into a closet and act like they don’t exist, they’re there, lurking like that old Christmas sweater you just can’t get rid of. Generational curses? My family has a long history of ghosting each other instead of having real conversations. My grandma did it, her kids did it, and now it’s my turn? Nope! I refuse to keep repeating that cycle. I’ve seen fathers and sons go without speaking for over 15 years, and that’s a path I wish not to continue to follow! The last time I saw my father in the flesh was in 2009 when we talked as he watched a western after my aunt’s funeral. We connected over the phone a few times afterward, but there was a disconnect that kept us miles apart. That cycle stops here!

I’ve reached a point where the old ways can’t accompany me into this next century. They won’t open new doors or earn a spot on this journey. That’s why it’s essential for me to take a much-needed hiatus and decide what’s best for ME. I’ve lived for everyone else long enough; now it’s time for ENID to live life on my terms, regardless of how it appears to anyone else! I can’t heal my family lineage while dragging the past along like a ball and chain! Spirit has made it crystal clear: it’s time to embrace the new.

As I step into this next chapter, it’s all about peace and presence, not the burdens of the past. Buckle up, world—it’s going to be a wild ride!