After the Until

On finally doing the “something” I kept planning for

For so long, anytime the question came up — “So, what are you going to do next?” or “When are you going to start working on (insert whatever bright idea I had just shared)?” — I told whomever (and myself) that I couldn’t focus on it, or wouldn’t start working on it, until I finished my book.

Then, I finished my book.

I turned in hundreds of pages. More than one hundred thousand words. I wasn’t DONE done — I still had edits to work on — but I was done enough.
The “until” had arrived.

And I didn’t know how to do the things.
How to put the bright ideas into motion.

So I invested in coaching.

Because I’m not a strategist. I’m a “I have this bright idea, I love it, the people are going to love it too, so I’m going to do it. NOW” kind of girl. And while that has worked in terms of public recognition and enjoyment, it hasn’t always been accompanied by dollars or paid a bill.
Because it didn’t have to.

This was my other work.

I was an assistant teaching professor when I originally self-published my first book, One Drop: Shifting the Lens on Race (fka (1)ne Drop). The Director of Africana Studies when I launched my digital love letter to dark-skinned Black women and girls, #PrettyPeriod. And an endowed chair when I created the online community and web series, Professional Black Girl.

All of those projects were my “afterschool programs.”

My community service.
The work I did for US.
For myself.
For my joy and ours.

But then I stepped away from the academy.

What I intended to be a break — a moment to rethink my direction and possibly pivot — turned into a now six-year hustle. And then, in 2020, America faked its racial reckoning. With it came opportunities and reparations in numbers I had never seen before.

In 2020, I had twelve speaking gigs during Black History Month.

This year, I had one.

And as of this moment, next year I have none.

You already know why.

Like so many of us, I knew Black lives weren’t going to matter to White folks forever. I just wasn’t prepared for it. I didn’t have a strategy. But in this current anti-Black climate — and anti-Black economy — I knew I was going to need one.

Seriously.

Which is why I finally tried coaching.
With MYLEIK.

You know what my coach told me soon after our first session?

I left my first session in tears.

I left my second session in tears too. This time feeling unheard. And frustrated.

But I didn’t give up.
And more importantly, my coach didn’t give up on me.
(One time, another coach told me that they wondered if I was even coachable. Ouch!)

Now, I’m not going to tell y’all more of my business than I already do. But let’s just say I needed a push. I was standing in my own way. Intellectualizing. Talking my way around myself. Talking myself out of doing what I said I wanted to do.

“I'm not ready.”

“I need time to prepare.”

“Not yet.”

All things I said to myself.
All things my coach called bullshit on.
(Did y'all know I'm stubborn and strong-willed at the same time? I know. Shocking)

I was standing on the edge.
And she pushed me.

And it's exactly what I needed.

Last month, I taught a course I named Beauty is the Beast.
A course on Black beauty politics that explored how conventional beauty ideals and practices are tied to anti-Blackness, to systems of power, and to the everyday realities of our lives, from hair and colorism to skin lightening and the quiet rules of who is allowed to belong.

I announced it one week.
Class started the next.

It sold out.
Forty paid registrants.
Another ten scholarships.
Five of those went to high school girls, made possible by the generous donations of my supporters.

It was amazing.
And I needed it as much as my students did.

The course only happened because Myleik pushed me.

I had mapped out an entire vision plan for a learning community, something I’ve been wanting to do since I first stepped away from the academy. I approached a close circle of people for feedback and possible collaboration. I planned to launch a beta run in January, a pilot sometime in the spring, use the summer months to tighten everything up, and then launch for real next fall.

But I was planning for something.
Fully invested in planning for something.
About to put money behind the planning for something — without ever actually trying or testing the something.

Myleik pushed me to try the something by doing something that wouldn’t require a lot of work— teaching a course “in my bag.”

And I’m so glad she did.
I’ll be doing that something that I’ve been thinking about doing for over five years, next year. 2026.

Thank you, Myleik.