Category: A Moment in My Life

A Moment in My Life – January 23, 2025

Jeannie Yee Davis

Everybody has a story. It would be foolish to assume that every story is alike. On that note, that’s what makes it interesting to hear someone else’s narrative. From the stories, we get a peek behind closed doors. Are you curious, too, or is it just nosy me? 

Yes, it’s true. I am nosy. Well, I prefer to think of it as I’m a curious person. Don’t lie. I’m sure you are, too. There is no shame. It’s a way to learn and to explore outside the box. So, it’s better to own it. With that said, I’m owning it. Although curious, I respect others’ privacy and don’t eavesdrop. However, if it can’t be helped, then I’m not eavesdropping now, am I? 

Here’s what happened. I was at the coffee shop minding my own business writing on MacTosha, my MacBook Air. My head and toro subtly danced to the upbeat, melodic instrumental piping through my ears when these words bumped the invisible record player needle in my head, “Are you married?” It interrupted my music, but I shook it off only to hear the voice roar, “When you get married, you’ll know what I mean.” And then, her story drowned out my song. I glanced in the direction of the voice to a pretty middle-aged brunette cupping her hands around a cappuccino, eyes burning into the speechless young lady seated across the small round table. I missed her response, but I gathered that the shy girl wasn’t married.

I came in after the picture started and had no clue how this topic began, but the more I heard, the sadder I got, learning that her married life was not blissful. She warned the single girl that she would lose her independence and identity and give up her career, dreams, and freedom to become a wife. She will become who her husband expects her to be. Her husband even decides how she dresses. Wow. Do I want to hear any more? I was shocked that this happened here and now. I waited for some redeeming words that some good came from her marriage, which I am sure were happy moments, but she did not reveal any. 

Since the lady was loud and long-winded, I didn’t want to hear more. I had seen enough of her life and didn’t want to be dejected, so I packed up and left, but I couldn’t shake her words out of my mind. 

All the way home, I kept thinking about my married life, which was nothing close to hers. In fact, being married was the best thing that ever happened to me. I wasn’t ready to be single again. For us, it indeed was “until death do us part.” We were married for 34 years, engaged for two and a half, and dated for six months. I grew up with my husband, who supported, encouraged, and nudged me to make my dreams a reality and become not only who I am but also my best self. We lived a full and happy life together. We have never missed a holiday, birthday, or anniversary since we met. We were rarely apart. We never vacationed alone or needed or wanted time away from each other. To me, that was what it meant to be married. Marriage looks different to different people, and I shouldn’t judge.

I actually lucked out. Some find marriage suffocating or restricting, but I found my independence as a wife because my husband allowed me to be me in every sense of the word. He loved me for my good, bad, and ugly. It doesn’t get better than that. One day, if I’m lucky enough to find another him, I’d marry him in a heartbeat. 

Hearing others’ stories filled with anger, resentment, or bitterness towards their spouses breaks my heart. These stories are an eye-opening experience for me and keep me humble and grateful because not everybody is as blessed as I have been in that way. I remembered this when she haunted me with her words, “When You Get Married, You’ll Know.”

A Moment in My Life – May 23, 2024

Jeannie Yee Davis

Do you ever get those days where you wake up with a thought, but before you can act on it, poof, dust in the wind, gone? That’s me today. They were emotional thoughts that made me want to write a column about it, but what was it? Isn’t that annoying? I’m mulling around here, hoping those thoughts will resurface. Let’s go for this ride and see where it takes me, shall we?

So, yesterday, I met this guy through LinkedIn. He sent me a connection request. LinkedIn is the only place I accept all connection requests because it’s a business networking platform, which means it should be safe and free of social media trolls. Now, I stand corrected. The trolls are everywhere. It takes only one troll to ruin everything and destroy my trust in that platform. Usually, I accept a connection, and that’s that. They become a number in the numbers game, and I never hear from them again. To my surprise, this new connection immediately messaged me. That should’ve been a red flag right there. I almost ignored him, but I was curious, so I responded. As I pondered whether to answer, I wondered why he reached out. It had to be a job opportunity, but based on his job title, Regional Director of Jewelry@Bulgari, what would he want with me.? I was never in the jewelry business. Although, the first question he asked was if I were still at Schwab. So far, it sounds legit, right? 

We ended up having an excellent dialogue until he asked for my phone number so we could talk more. What? Why? I never understood why a troll would insist on moving to another platform “so we could talk more.” We’re talking just fine right where we are in LinkedIn messaging. He shot up a red flag right at that moment. Scammers always want me to go to another platform “to talk more” or want my phone number. I just thought of something. Wouldn’t it be funny if I gave them my landline number? They wouldn’t know right away. They didn’t ask for a “cell” number per se—it was implied. 

I declined to give him my phone number, explaining that I used to hand out my personal contact info to strangers I met on the street until I met my stalker. It takes only one person to ruin everything, and after that, I am selective with whom gets my contact info. He did not push like the previous trolls I met on FB. I am unfamiliar with LinkedIn as I am not actively on that platform, so I wondered if his request was valid. Maybe I was wishful that he wasn’t a troll? So, I asked if he had a FB account instead. He said to give him my username, and he will find me. That didn’t sound so bad. I gave him my FB username link, meaning he had to only click on it. Viola, and there I am, and he could send me a friend request. It took him about an hour to send the request. That alone was suspicious.  

The plot thickened when I accepted his friend request and saw that he had created a brand-new FB account to send me a friend request. All the alarms in my head blared. I immediately messaged him, “You opened a new account just for me?” He quickly explained that the same people were on FB and LinkedIn, so he had previously deleted his account. Wow! Really? I can’t say that comforted me. I paused everything. He continued to message me, calling me on it, saying that I found it strange that he created a new account and noted that I was uncomfortable with it, so I avoided him. I laughed, people, because the more he spoke, the more the smooth-talking, engaging man I met became just another troll that I used to turn in to the FB police. When I did not respond to him, he suggested that we call and talk. I concluded with, “No, thank you. You’ll have to meet your quota with someone else.” He sank deeper when he knew what I meant precisely by my comment and gave me an earful about how if I thought he was one of them, I did not know him, and so on. 

It was time for me to get off the bus. I unfriended him from FB and deleted his LinkedIn connection. I have never stayed in the troll’s game long enough to figure out their end game, but I understood why they wanted our phone number. Our cell phone is the easiest way to assume our identity, intercept security protocols sent to our phones, and gain access to our financial and social media accounts. (According to FCC.gov.)

They often invite me to “talk more” with them on WhatsApp, and now I know why. Once you’re “inside an app like WhatsApp, correspondence can feel more familiar than on email or even text message – scammers take advantage of this. Broadly, scammers usually want to do one of three things: Steal your money or cryptocurrency. Obtain your personally identifiable information.” (According to tech.co.)

It’s annoying and disappointing when someone tries to scam you, but sometimes they keep you on your toes, reminding you never to drop your guard. Trolls are everywhere, especially when you least expect them. It’s sad that we can’t trust people the way we would like, but don’t give up hope that there is good in people. But exercise discernment when things seem too good to be true or suspicious, listen to your instinct, pause, and not get suckered, especially when there’s today.

A Moment in My Life – February 8, 2024

Jeannie Yee Davis

I exited 2023 and entered 2024, jumping for joy. Excited, enraptured with all the possibilities of 2024. Happy. No, not happy, but ecstatic. I had the best New Year’s Day ever. How could anything bad happen after that grand entrance? You never know. Anything can and will happen. You simply never know. That’s the plain truth.

Shortly into the new year, something didn’t feel right inside me. Something else didn’t feel right before I got to the bottom of that first ailment. And so it began, my trek down the path of fears and scares of possibilities, which I chose the path of denial. Not wise, but a human trait. Anyway, this is not about that. That will be a story for another day. I will say that eventually, I dealt with reality and am on the mend.

During my trials, a couple of friends passed away. The first friend, Mike, had battled with cancer for several years. It was still sad losing him, but it was inevitable that one day, he would be freed of his suffering. Soon after, I learned another friend, Don, lost his fight with pancreatic cancer. However, the most recent loss was unexpected. Margarita was fine just days before when I saw her last. She had a stroke while attending her granddaughter’s school event, and nothing could save her. Just weeks earlier, she lost her son suddenly. So painfully sad for her family. When I heard this shocking news, I was still in the middle of my challenges, fearing that maybe my time was near, so learning about Margarita’s passing hit too close to home. You never know when your time is up. Her passing spurred me to write this column.

Loss has a way of spiraling you into deep contemplation. Nothing is infinite. We are finite. As Franklin said, “Nothing is certain except death and taxes,” and other versions of this saying, like “The only thing you have to do is pay taxes and death, and anything else you think you have to do, you made up,” which is a nice segway that sums everything up here. 

We don’t know when it will be our time to line up at the gates of heaven. We don’t know if we get to do it all again tomorrow. Every morning, I say, “Thank You, Lord, for this new day,” because I get to wake up again. My dear friends Betty and Lenore and my cousin Tina went to bed one night and did not wake up the next day. Each day truly is a gift from God. I don’t take it lightly. For the longest time, I was afraid of death. I was so not ready and feared dying before I was ready, but when will I be ready? Especially being human, I tend to procrastinate doing things. I am a busy bee and consistently productive, but I do the priority things first, and I confess that I put things off when I don’t have to deal with them right away. I’m working on it, people. I give myself grace because I am human, too. However, regardless of when I get the call, I will never be ready at this rate. 

Losing someone is like a car battery jumpstart that jolts us out of surviving day-to-day like we’ve all the time in the world. We don’t. Our days are numbered. We aren’t privy to the end date. In a way, it’s good not knowing. Knowing may give us the sense of urgency we need to avoid squandering our time. Maybe? Maybe not. I don’t know. I know that loss makes me reevaluate what I want my life to be about and what legacy I want to leave behind. It makes me ponder whether I am living the way I like to live or not.

Too often, we aren’t living the life we dreamed of, but we wait until tomorrow or another day to do something about it. As we get older, the battery life runs lower. Do you want your battery drained before you fulfill your dream life? 

Living the life we dreamed of with as few regrets as possible is essential. This life is it. One life only. It’s not a dress rehearsal. We all have dreams, but few of us pursue them. We settle into a life for various reasons, and our dreams evaporate with time. The dream life is subjective and personal. The only thing in common is that it takes work and effort to make it possible. I recently read a devotional, “How to Dream Brave with God.” It taught me that our dreams are valid, meaningful, and blessed by God. After all, He gave us everything we need to live our dreams. He wants us to succeed and to dream big. Knowing this allowed me to dream bravely.

When we lose someone, we should try harder to live better because we can. They can’t anymore, but I know they would want us to live fully and boldly and make each day count. 

Sometimes, we get a second chance with nudges that sit us up straighter and make us rethink what we are doing and, if not, on the right path to set us on the right course. Or, in your heart, something isn’t right, and that’s your second chance to make changes and stop making excuses because tomorrow may be too late.

We never think about this until we get that nudge, and that’s when we ask ourselves what legacy we want to leave behind. We don’t want to be remembered as ones whose job was their priority, and we never had time for people. Or that all we did was have fun without considering paving a future for our loved ones or doing anything that mattered. We must have balance to provide for a future, spend time with people, do good work, live a good life, and care for what matters. Spend time at work to build a future and help those in need. Spend time at play for social and wellness. Spend time building relationships with people and God. 

Balance is the teeter to moderation, the totter. You must balance your efforts with things you enjoy each day and the work you must do to make everything possible. Moderation in everything will allow you to appreciate life and do important things: people, projects, social work, earning a living, realizing your dreams, and making time with God. Then, you’ll have few regrets and live a good life.

I don’t take anything for granted, especially as I get older. Nothing is ours forever—our five senses, mobility, faculties, and health we rely on without thought, like breathing, but will we always have them? Will we always have our independence? You never know. People and things come and go without warning. Our lives are like a drawing on a chalkboard, fragile, with one brush stroke, erased, a deleted scene in a movie. You never know. Take nothing for granted. You never know until it’s taken away from you. Then, all you have is regret that you didn’t appreciate what you had while you had it.   

The best caregivers I know are too busy caring for everybody else and seldom themselves. You do nobody any favors by neglecting yourself. You matter, too. Once you care for yourself, you’ll be a super person in caring for everybody else.

For those who are blessed with loved ones, never part with anger, hurtful words, or unresolved issues. Scripture says, “Do not let the sun go down on your anger” because that might be the last words between you, which would be sad. The purpose of this piece is to encourage you to take this opportunity to reevaluate whether you are living a good and balanced life that is filled with love and gives you peace, knowing that when your time is up, you will have very few regrets because this is your one life and not a dress rehearsal. Will you wake up tomorrow and get to do it all again? You never know.

A Moment in My Life – November 27, 2023

Jeannie Yee Davis

I don’t think I’ll ever understand how life works. It’s a good thing that’s not my job responsibility. If it were, I would excel at goofing it up every time. What am I talking about? Good question. I’m meeting up with a few of my high school girlfriends soon, which got me reminiscing about the conversations we had back then. One in particular weighs heavily on my mind: the one about dating and marriage. 

This is where life comes in and finds me rolling on the floor, laughing my head off. Okay, maybe it’s not that funny, but however you look at it, it’s laughable, and I’ll tell you why. In school, one girlfriend shocked me when she said she wasn’t interested in dating and did not believe in marriage. Whoa! Knock me down and keep going because I needed time to mull it over. How do you expect a girl who always had a crush on some guy and her interpretation of life was having someone special to spend it with to understand that concept? Thus, it blew me away. 

Yet, she prepared me for real life. I’ve met many people over my adult years who I never saw go on a date, let alone get married, which no longer shocked me. One of these people was another high school girlfriend who never dated or married. I never understood why but never asked. Hey, we have to exercise boundaries. If they want to share, they will. Otherwise, it’s none of my business.

Just when I accepted this concept, boom, my aromantic girlfriend moved in with a guy in college. Fast forward a few decades, and she surprised me again when she announced they eloped! What! This was the girl disinterested in relationships? What a trip she set my mind on! Hallelujah! That was great news for a romantic to hear. I was truly happy for her.

I don’t know whether to laugh or to cry because life has a sense of humor. Who would have thought that at seventeen, she would choose singlehood, and I would choose marriage; however, fast forward to the current day, she’d be married, and I would be single. Who wrote those cards? I’m laughing because it’s funny when you realize nothing is set in stone, so it’s better never to say never.

A Moment in My Life – November 16, 2023

Jeannie Yee Davis

It just dawned on me. It’s that time of year again. Yipers. I saw the patterns for four years straight. I tried hard to outsmart the circumstances and prevent them from recurring. Did I succeed? Heck no. Try as I might, it worsens with each year. The first year, it lasted two days. I thought that was bad. It was bad enough that I ensured it wouldn’t happen the following year. Ugh. Again, I couldn’t stop it. The next year, it lasted twice as long but eventually passed. The following year, a whole week, people! I thought that was horrible, but it turned out to be nothing because last year was Armageddon spiraling into the Abyss from sometime in November, and like fish, stunk through January to early February. As sure as the holidays came, so did depression, but I did not see the severity of that last one until it was too late.

Each year, I had a game plan put into action, but what did I know about depression? Sure, I had good days and bad ones, but depressed for a length of time? No, not me. I strive to live on the “positive” and “happy” side of the mountain. I feel for those on the other side and every day, I attempt to deliver a positive message to uplift those folks, but then, one fateful day in December 2019, a gremlin crossed the line and got me. What this tells me is that depression is indiscriminate. It can grab hold of anyone.

The only thing I know about depression is that it makes sense that people with a weakened immunity could fall prey to it. The world looks bleaker when we are tired, hungry, or ill. Being a one-woman act, juggling different hats, and never getting enough sleep made me a perfect target. That much I knew.

So, my game plan each year included getting more rest and taking better care of myself ahead of the bull’s eye. The first year, I also took a break from social media for a couple of days. It was refreshing, but it was a Band-Aid and did not fix the problem. Each year, I tried a version of this game plan. I was so clever being a step ahead by taking better care of my wellness and quieting the noise, but last year required major surgery, not just a Band-Aid.

Since nothing I did in the prior years solved the problem, yesteryear, I shut the world out to completely quiet the noise to reassess what was working and what wasn’t. At the time, social media, especially Facebook, was like heavy metal music between my ears; I needed to turn it off. I was so involved in Facebook that it felt like a high-stress, full-time unpaid job that ate up all my time, resources, and wellness. At least with a job, I left work at the end of the day, whereas Facebook was on call 24/7. I had too many voices coming at me from different platforms. I was alone but never alone, and that ripped at me. Sprinkle in some toxic relationships too close to home to spice things up when you have a sensitive palate—it’s torture.

As I listened to “Is It Any Wonder,” a song sung by Durand Jones & The Indications, the lyrics felt personal and haunting—they were—short, simple, and quite catchy. You can’t help but sing along to the soulful ballad that is moody and beautiful. For most people, it ends there. For me, the words grab me like a freshly sharpened sword, reopening the unresolved questions that I might never get answered. The singer ponders the profound path, questioning the complications of relationships sealed with intense feelings and emotions of longing and reassurance. It hit home for me—the core of my problem—unrequited expectations. Is it any wonder I fell into the Abyss and couldn’t climb out? Is it any wonder that I can’t change a darn thing? At the time, it felt like nobody cared, but the truth was, nobody knew what I was going through. How could they? I didn’t know. Is it any wonder it’s become an annual affair?

I made significant changes during last year’s reassessment. It was a necessary and insightful exercise where I offloaded the toxic relationships and activities that served no value but only created stress. As this winter approaches, what else could I do to prevent a reenactment of last year’s Abyss? I did considerable housecleaning, so what else was left? That question stressed me out because the answer was “nothing!” I emptied the toxic waste bin and had a pleasant year. What more can I ask? I’m all out of ideas. Yet, four years in the making, I landed in depression that worsened each year, which added to my fear of falling prey again. 

Suddenly, my eyes opened. I may be overthinking it. This year, I’ll be okay because I removed the harmful poisons from my life, picked up the broken pieces, and mended them. I’m feeling hopeful. It’s already mid-November, and I am well, strong, and feeling good. This year may be different, but it might be too soon to tell. Then, it dawned on me the real culprit here is Satan, trying to trip me up, stirring the pot—telling me lies. I believed him in my vulnerable state, but I’ll always have unrequited expectations because it is what it is and always will be. Nobody sees things eye-to-eye. I can’t expect people to respond a certain way. Thus, I will always face disappointments. There is little I can control. All I can do is to make the best of each situation. For starters, when Satan, the father of lies, pushes my buttons, and he knows when and which ones to try, I will tell him, “Go away! You are a liar!” I will repeat this as often as necessary and wear him down. 

My game plan for this year is to continue to form good, healthy habits, plus turn the table on Satan and give him a piece of my mind. It took me a while, but I’m on to him now, and I refuse to give him any more control over me. Then, it’ll be his turn for disappointment, but then, “Is It Any Wonder?”

A Moment in My Life – March 23, 2023

Jeannie Yee Davis

I scrutinized Facebook for four days and three nights before I caved and accepted my first friend request to join the mega-addicting social platform. Why the scrutiny? Oh, I don’t know. The usual insecurities people tend towards, like what if nobody wanted to be my friend, for starters? I imagined how embarrassing it would be, like in elementary school, standing there feeling naked as the selection line petered out, waiting, hoping not to be the last kid picked for the softball team. Some scars never leave you. These memories help me empathize with people suffering from abandonment issues. Standing there with a thousand mocking eyes upon you, with some snickers adding to your already clammy hands, shaky legs, deafening blood pressure pounding on your temples as you realize you might be the last one standing on the other side of the playground was too much to bear. Nobody, especially not a kid, wants to be in that position, ever. The funny thing was that most of us have been through something similar, yet, kids could be cruel to other kids. 

Fifteen years and over 600 friends later, I still remember the anxiety I experienced as if it were yesterday. As it turned out, I didn’t have to worry about friends. I laugh now at the wasted time I spent worrying. The mood induction for reactions and comments to my posts replaced my fear of friendlessness. Like most things, you don’t even see it coming. It trickles in unexpectedly, like a slow leak in your basement, until the bacteria in the stagnant water become airborne. Then you know it’s there. Has this happened to you? Add a post, wait for reactions and comments, and become bummed when you don’t get the expected responses. I have. I know I’m not alone. It’s disappointing and dispiriting. Everyone wants acceptance, and positive reactions and comments affirm us. The more we get, the more we expect it. Although, like the weather, we can’t predict the same outcome every time. People don’t like or agree with everything. People are busy and only catch some posts. Many friends of mine look but don’t touch. I don’t get it. I think of voyeurs watching you, but I’m sure they have their rationality. There are various reasons people do or don’t do what they do.

Ultimately, none of these matters in the long run. None of this defines us. Social media is entertainment and a means of sharing and connecting with friends and family. That’s it. Plain and simple. At least, that’s what it should be. However, there is some algorithm that gets us addicted to social media. I don’t have an addictive personality but I am guilty of falling prey. I just learned about social media codependency, which explains why my mood depended on the reactions and comments to my posts. I was suffering from social media codependency. Once I had a label for this, it made perfect sense. My eyes opened, and that was my ticket off the funny train heading to Doomville, which was not the direction I headed towards.

Our lives go toward our thoughts. Our thoughts can change the path of our lives, and what we think shapes who we are. As the old saying goes, “the mind is a powerful thing.” It’s also a delicate thing where truth isn’t always black or white but can easily be a tainted shade of gray. A lack of response or an iffy one feels like rejection but may not be. We see what we want to see, which may differ from the truth. Each of us has an inner voice telling us a version of the truth, which reminds me of the Big Kahuna of the “Gidget” fame, where everybody respected and idolized Kahuna for being the super cool guy, a surfer legend. Later, at the movie’s end, he wasn’t as cool as we thought. He was just a glorified man—a version of who he wanted us to see. 

When others decide my thoughts for me, it’s as if the Big Kahuna lives inside my head, telling me how to think and feel—a version he portrays. That’s what I was doing when I let my mood depend on the reactions to my posts. Reactions are great. I love getting them, but I shouldn’t let them make or break me. That’s the addiction issue that leads to mood swings. Understanding this broke the social media chain that bonded me. I no longer expect reactions. Facebook is once again a fun place to visit with no strings attached, and I have a healthy relationship with social media again. 

Did you know about social media codependency? It opened a whole new world for me once I learned about it. It’s easy to abuse social media, which takes the fun out of it and messes with our minds. We must guard ourselves in social media and our minds, thoughts, and emotions. As wonderful as social media could be, it could be equally damaging if we’re not careful. With that said, enjoy social media, but stay vigilant. Protect your mind because your mind will make or break you. Nobody will watch out for you but you, so you must guard where the Big Kahuna lives.

A Moment in My Life – March 22, 2023

Jeannie Yee Davis

There is one thing I know for sure. Everybody is in search of their happy place. That’s the only common denominator. Arriving at the goal is as unique as our DNA. Some are similar, while others may raise an eyebrow. Some turn to dreams to bridge their sanity, which is fine if it doesn’t interfere with reality. Someone chose the fortune cookie factory as her happy place. Okay. Sweets spread a smile. I accept that. For me, my happy place was writing my column every day. I long for those days when a song or a conversation inspired me to get on the page and bring the idea to life. It was the most satisfying victory to reach the end of the page. It’s been a while since I last wrote a column, and far between that one. My column-writing days were my happiest, but at some point, my groove was not grooving. I may need a vacation. I had not taken a day off since my column’s debut. Writers like Eugene O’Neill wrote 24/7 with a story in front and behind him on two desks. Eugene probably had helpers caring for his affairs, freeing him to write. For this girl, if I don’t do it, it won’t get done. If it’s not working, it’s time to try a fresh approach.

We change—life changes. Situations change. Even our happy place. Have you ever returned to a place disappointed it no longer looked, felt, or was the same as you remembered? For me, it was Skagway, Alaska. 2019, no longer mirrored Skagway 1998. That was an unsurprising stretch since life near me has changed significantly pre- to post-pandemic. Expecting to find our happy place intact is a tall order. If you find it, hold on to it with dear life. You’re the lucky one.

For the rest of us, we have to adapt to the changes. Nothing stays the same forever. Life is about advancing to the next step, having a purpose, improving and growing to be the best we can be, and making life worthwhile under whatever circumstances. Everybody changes. Some of us change together, while others change apart. That’s reality.

The alternative to change is remaining stagnant. If you don’t change, you’re not growing and fulfilling the full potential that you may not know you had. If you’re not living, you’re dying slowly. I know someone who stopped living after he retired and has been waiting to die. He’s been blessed with over 25 years in retirement and is still waiting to check out. That is devastating to me when you think of those people who fight to live but check out prematurely, thanks to health challenges. We will all die one day, but until then, why not enjoy everything this life offers if you are physically and mentally able? It’s a journey full of possibilities for anybody who welcomes it. If it comes your way, accept it. Only some people get the invitation.

The beauty of change is the opportunity to reevaluate our purpose. Purpose gives us a reason to wake up each day. Like the retiree waiting to die, he equated his job to his purpose. When his job ended, so did his life. He was old school and failed to recognize that change meant building a new life that could be the best yet. Without knowing it, we’re creating a new life in small degrees. If I’m unhappy, my first step is reassessing my cognitive views. Remove what wasn’t working and adopt positive attributes to create a new life that will keep everything fresh, alive, and organic. Staying in a toxic position isn’t healthy for anybody involved. We don’t need a significant overhaul but must know when to let go and rebuild. Everything happens for a reason, including people. People come into our lives for a time. Sometimes, they stay a lifetime—other times, a season. They served a purpose when we needed them, and vice versa. Nothing will take away those cherished moments, but we may not be together forever.

Changing things keeps life interesting, different from yesterday, enjoyable for today, and something to look forward to tomorrow. If you are exactly where you always wanted to be and live the life that makes you happy, enjoy it. No need to change, but if you find yourself searching for your happy place, it’s time to rebuild and try something new. Regardless if the past were ideal or not, most likely, it would differ from how you remember it. All we can do is keep moving forward, be our best selves, and live our best lives. We have more control than we think. There’s no sense retracing our steps on this journey to our happy place. Be happy. Be brave. Travel to uncharted territories, and know we won’t be leaving by the same road we came by.

A Moment in My Life – January 31, 2023

Jeannie Yee Davis

I knew it might happen. I worked all year to prepare for December. I saw the pattern from the previous three years, which led me to believe it might happen again, and it did with a vengeance like no prior year, mind you. I swear each year got a little worse with this last December, the heaviest, deepest dive into the well of darkness than ever.

All year round, every single day, I woke up, and I pumped positivity onto my FB wall, hoping to lift others who awakened in dire need of a pick-me-up or were not quite a happy camper and needed a bit of reinforcement to start the day. Some wanted to jumpstart their day with a smile. We’re all human and need something to smile about each day. I tried to deliver a redeeming, sobering message of hope for everybody who needed, welcomed, and appreciated it. Creating witty captions upon gorgeous skyscapes brought me joy, and sharing them with others cheered me up as much as it did them.

Many people have said that I am always happy and inspiring and the most positive person they know. It’s true. I am optimistic, but it doesn’t always come naturally. Like anything else, I have to work at it. I strive for an uplifting outlook on everything that comes my way, but being human, I live with the trials of mood swings, good days, and bad—waking up on the wrong side of the bed—things not going my way. We must deal with life challenges, disappointments, and people who rub us wrong or intentionally aim to hurt us. There are plenty of unexpected circumstances that throw us into a loop. We deal with come what may and, as challenging as it is, maintain a positive attitude amid adversity.

The unfortunate thing about maintaining a sense of happy is that people assume we are always happy and nothing can penetrate us. They don’t think we may have a bad day. We do, but we don’t show it to avoid spreading negativity. They assume nothing can take us down, which would be fantastic if that were true. I would love to always be in a good mood 24/7. That’s unrealistic, though. It’s human to feel emotions, and it is healthy to verbalize our feelings and not hide them. I am verbal. I’ve voiced when I’m not a happy camper. It’s interesting the response I got. Nobody seemed concerned or fazed by it.

When you’re in the deep dive of depression, it feels like an empty canyon with miles of nothing and nobody around to hear you scream. You are all alone even though smiling people are all around you, but they see nothing, hear nothing, and feel nothing that is clawing at you. You think nobody cares—you feel unloved and alone. Depression does that to you. It spats lie after lie until it buries you under its weight, immobilizing you.

There is nothing lonelier than feeling alone with people all around going about their business, paying you no attention, especially during the holidays. It’s the saddest time of the year for some folks, and it has become that for me. Knowing this, I prepared myself for the darkness, but some challenges must take place no matter what you do. It’s in the cards. I will keep trying to beat the odds. I don’t want to relive this past December when it felt like the world turned against me.

When I thought things couldn’t get worse, they did. I had a scary jab in the nose accident in the shower that left me bleeding endlessly. Luckily, I stopped the bleeding, avoiding a trip to ER. As frightening as that incident was, it was just the beginning. A few hours later, an elderly lady didn’t see me and slammed her SUV into my little car, giving me my first fender bender. That incident also rendered my trunk latch unresponsive. Like anybody else, I was screaming, “Enough!” But it wasn’t over yet. My car battery stranded me, luckily, in my garage. Praise God. AAA came to the rescue with a jumpstart. Hallelujah. Two days later, both key fob batteries died. You know you’re going nowhere fast or slow. After replacing the batteries, my car didn’t fire up as expected. What is going on, people? Initially, it was probably the cold temperature. Long story short, the battery gave up its ghost and needed replacing. Enough? Nope. Not yet. Come Christmas Eve, just as everybody closed up shop early for Christmas, my dishwasher broke and flooded my kitchen, destroying my wooden floor. Now, enough? Oh yeah. No kidding. It was enough before any of this happened.

It was bad enough feeling the aloneness, but when challenges like these happen, you can quickly spiral deeper into depression and to the point of no return, but realistically, bite the bullet and fight back. This isn’t true for everyone. Some people may not survive so many ordeals in a short time. I’m a survivor. Take responsibility, and deal with come what may, as you have heard me say.

Regardless of the lousy hand dealt me, I still look for a silver lining in every situation. If you look, you will find, and I did. As depressing as these physical ordeals were, in hindsight, they were what I needed to distract me from my depression. Each incident was traumatic enough and timely spaced to force my attention away from my depression but not so devastating that I couldn’t bounce back from it.

Since I fell into depression the last few years, I thought I could beat it this time, but I couldn’t prepare for any of them. Each depression is unique. Different triggers spiral you into a realm all on their own, meaning I will learn a new lesson next December, which I am not looking forward to, just like no two people can experience the same depression, but it is what it is. This began with Mark’s untimely passing and is something I must work through. Knowing this will happen, I need to guard myself with solid and positive surroundings, which I failed to prepare this time. I started with low self-esteem and exhaustion—both candidates for the devil to make himself at home. Once he enters, he tells you lies that nobody cares. You’re unloved and unworthy to be loved; before long, you’re too weak to fight him, and you believe him. Then your universe collapses.

It’s true. I was all alone during my darkest period, but in hindsight, that was what I needed. I had to search within myself and reassess my life and who I am. I needed to scrutinize everything I was doing to ensure that I was advancing along the right path, and it was a journey I had to take alone. Once I understood this, I no longer felt alone or unloved. God set it up in a way that gave me the space I needed to do this exercise without people influencing me. Once I completed this task, the people stepped back into the picture, wrapping their love around me.

Everything works together for a reason. We are not alone, even when we feel alone. It is sometimes necessary for our good to be alone. Of all unlikely people, I fell into a prolonged depression this December and only found myself a few days ago. It is good to find myself again. It’s a fabulous feeling to feel like me again. I disliked being depressed, but I learned much about myself and restored what I needed. My beautiful little car has a brand-new car battery, a restored trunk latch, new key fob batteries, and my baby is as good as new. I have no permanent damage to my nose. My dishwasher has a replaced valve that will outlast the dishwasher. My floors, well, they are as good as they can be.

Each depression is unique, some worse than others. We should not take it likely. I always recommend people talk to someone and do whatever it takes to get out of the rut. I was verbal about being down in the dumps, but in my case, it didn’t generate conversations, which was perturbing at first, but in the end, I understood it wasn’t what I needed to overcome this plight. I had to go through the motions to learn that, but I survived it a better me. Nobody is beneath depression. Even someone like me, who is always happy, can’t escape it. I am living proof that we are stronger than the devil who tries to trip us up. Try as I did to avoid depression, but I am human, and it can happen to me.

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, October 27, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

In my previous column, “Just Like That,” I weighed whether to call Ratish for a date. Before I decided, Ratish began texting me, and we started a friendship by getting to know one another. Straight off the bat, unintentionally, we did what my niece said young people do these days, and that’s “define the relationship.” Back in the day when I was dating, there was no such thing as defining the relationship, per se. You dated, and if all went well, the natural progression was to go steady, which led to engagement and marriage. Times have changed, and defining the relationship makes sense. Before we got to the talk about going on a date, we revealed differing relationship objectives. My poor heart sank as there was no apparent solution to bridge our differences. He was doing me a favor in his mind because we could satisfy each other’s needs since we were both single, straight, and available. He has a good point. He does. If only being friends with benefits worked for me.

I am thankful that he respects my decision, even though he wouldn’t mind being “friends with benefits” until my Mr. Right comes along. Well, that’s quite noble of him. I repeat, if only “friends with benefits” did it for me, our relationship would be so simple, and it would be a win-win for us both. Maybe for some folks, but me, it has never worked, and I doubt it ever would, just like I hope but suspect that he wouldn’t suddenly want a long-term relationship over a casual let’s-get-together-for-fun one. He left the ball in my court with, “let me know if you change your mind,” which meant that it was over before it started because I won’t be changing my mind.

What we have here is a modern-day Romeo and Juliette unrequited love story. Both are waiting for love to strike simultaneously in the same way. It’s a fairy tale wish our fairy godmother could sprinkle her magic dust to change one of our minds. Preferably his—as he matures and becomes ready for a long-term commitment. I know he would have me change my mind. For now, the obvious choice—let this one go. Like Tic Tac Toe, it’s better not to play the game. Playing will not lead to a happy ending for either of us.

Ending by choice still hurts and is sad and rejecting any way you cut it. Why couldn’t we both have love on the brain? He probably thought the same thing, but instead, why couldn’t I have sex on the brain? That’s why he probably kept checking in with me when I was so sure I’d never hear from him again after I set my boundaries early on. I kept thinking he would have found someone else and moved on. Yet, I heard from him week after week, and my mouth dropped. Why? What part of not wanting the same thing did he not understand? Eventually, I caught on. He checked in just in case I changed my mind. I guess this is when the word flattering comes into play.

Even though he knew he wouldn’t have his way, he still wanted to see me. After a while, I finally agreed to meet him in a public place to avoid temptation. I told myself that this was necessary to help him cut the ties. I was so sure that once he saw me again, he’ll realize that there wasn’t anything special about me and would lose interest, and that’s that. Then, he would forget about me and move on.

To my surprise, when he saw me, he said I was hot and sexy. I turned left and right to see who he was talking to. Oh, me! Hot? Sexy? Where did that come from? I’ve never heard or thought of either word in the same sentence as my name in my entire life. I’m just me, trying to be the best version of myself. I’m so not hot or sexy. I can only dream. I like the idea of being sexy, just a little, not too much, but I honestly never thought about it, so I have to admit, having a guy say that about me got me doing the happy dance.

It’s still too early to tell whether this is the end of the road for him, too, but I would be okay with being friends with benefits differently than his version. I could see friends with benefits coming in handy when we need a plus one for an event, which sure beats attending alone. I don’t know if we could go there. If nothing else, I’m thankful that Ratish came into my life, distracted me from routine, and allowed me to feel like a schoolgirl again for a couple of months. He renewed all those little nuances of anticipation and excitement of a new relationship long forgotten. Everybody needs to be wanted and loved, and I am no different. Ratish wants me, but that’s not enough for me. I like the real deal, the balance of a complete, deep, and meaningful relationship where my guy will want me and love me at my best, worst, sexy, and everything in between. When I meet my special guy, I don’t want to compromise my objectives, meaning it will have to be love on the brain and not something else.

A Moment in My Life – Friday, October 7, 2022

Jeannie Yee Davis

All I wanted for Christmas last year was to experience a Hallmark romance of my own. That thought can be daunting since many Hallmark romances begin with a disconnect between the prospective couple in an unexpected circumstance. I could do without the trauma drama disconnect, but I’m okay with meeting Mr. Right under the least expected circumstances. When Christmas came and went without a glimmer of Santa’s present somewhere in my humble abode, I filed away Christmas and returned to my reclusive life. My Christmas wish poofed with a snap of my fingers. What was I thinking? I’m a grown-up practical modern-day woman relying on Santa for a wish to come true! Before long, my sensibility sent me down my mega to-do list, tending to my projects by priority. Soon, everything holiday-related faded to another calendar page on top of the previous calendar years.

If you don’t go anywhere, the chances of encountering unexpected circumstances are a moot point. The pandemic does not help. Every day, the Covid numbers rose with a new variant mutation, and I retreated deeper into hermit life. I encountered zero social life for six months as my way of keeping out of trouble. You never know who you might catch the virus from, when, how, or where, but like it or not, at some point, I knew I had to stop being a fraidy cat and do what needed to be done. For starters, my six-year-old modem has troubled me for quite a while, and it finally refused to transmit a byte of data. The reason I survived the looney farm as a hermit was my cyber world, my only means of human connection, which meant if a stranger needed to come inside my home to get my Wi-Fi working, then so be it.

Of course, when you have a technical problem, it’s not easily fixable, as in my case. Conceivably, I should be able to resolve my issue with a couple of easy steps, but nope. That would’ve been too simple. Instead, a live technical person needed to service my call. Imagine my dismay at having a potential virus-spreading person inside my home—not a good feeling, but I wanted my internet problem resolved more than I feared the virus.

When the service guy arrived, I opened the door, and my eyes went skyward to meet the eyes of the tall, dark, and handsome man in a fluorescent service vest. I was glad he couldn’t see my mouth fall open under my mask. He immediately put on his mask, following my lead. He asked what the problem was, and I was a bubbling idiot trying to form logical sentences. I was glad I had jotted down the issues that needed servicing before I became distracted.

After the initial awkward greeting, we worked together well. Ratish didn’t mind my inquisitive curiosity, allowing me to follow him and watch what he did. Everything fascinated him. He noticed around my place, pointing out all the purple, like a kid at an amusement park. He said, “Your outfit is even purple. I like it,” pointing to my two-tone purple tee and lavender jeans. I glanced at my clothes, surprised that he was so amused since I dressed, not to impress. He commented on how much he liked my purpleness; now, purple is one of his favorite colors.

During this service call, I was uptight, concerned that I might have residual internet problems, while Ratish was the total opposite of me, with his carefree amusement. His easygoingness and willingness to answer all of my questions helped put me at ease. Once we covered everything a few times over, he gave me his cell number and said, “Call me anytime if you have questions or problems or want a date.” 

What did he just say? Did he say, “a date”? I didn’t comment as I followed him out the front door, replaying his words in my head. He turned around, and when I saw the playfulness in his eyes, I realized I had heard him correctly. Then I said, “A date, huh?

“Yeah. Just call me.” Ratish leaned against the doorframe as the butterflies fluttered in my tummy. For the first time in a long time, I forgot everything that needed to get done. Instead, I floated up to meet his eyes, and my Christmas wish came true just like that.