homelessI have been planning my departure from Las Vegas for what seems to be forever. My plan was to relocate during the summer before my children started back to school. It seemed like a doable plan. I had interviewed for a position back in June in California and they seemed to really like me. Everything seemed to be going fine. I had moved to the final hiring stage, submitting permission for them to request my background information, motor vehicle report and references. I was confident that the position was mine. I mean who digs into a person’s background without an intent to hire. I put in my two weeks notice. It was finally happening. I was finally moving back home. Then I made the call to follow up and make sure they had received what they needed. I was given excuses and to my dismay, they had offered someone else the job. What would I do now? I wasn’t going to ask for my old position back. So I relied on plan B. Just do it.

I went to California anyways. It was mid-July, which would give me plenty enough time to get situated and figure out the school my children would attend. I was already planning events out there so I might as well be there. But it wasn’t that easy. I was still locked into my lease in Las Vegas until October.  I was staying with my sister in California. So the minute an issue came up, I was like “well I have an apartment to go to”(I’m a professional runner, I run away from confrontations).   I didn’t want to be made to feel as though I was someone’s burden.  I get that often being the youngest of four.  So I packed up our bags and we returned to Las Vegas.  I enrolled my children in school and we went back to our normal routines, except for the fact that I didn’t have full time employment or full time income for that matter. The cost of planning the events was draining the makeshift budget I had created for the move and my savings were dwindling.

By the end of September, I had to give up my place and there was no way I was renewing my lease. I had thought about it but given the circumstances there was just no way for that to even happen.  Fortunately, my oldest sister (there’s a 14 year age difference so she is like my mother) that resides in Las Vegas allowed my children and I to move in with her. As crazy as it all seemed, it was actually forcing me to be clear as to what I wanted in order for God to do what needed to be done. I could no longer waiver in my decision to relocate.

Since my sister lives 30 minutes away from my home and my children’s school, I decided that when I dropped the kids off to school, I would just stay on my side of town in order to save on gas. I would eat lunch in my car parked in the shade. My youngest son has afternoon kindergarten, so we would spend our mornings running errands, shipping off RN Brand tees (nice plug) and hanging out at the park. Our bathroom breaks were taken at the park or the grocery store. We made it work. The weather in Las Vegas was still nice, actually hot, so we always had plenty of Capri-suns and juices in the car. By day I felt homeless. But I also felt some sort of freedom. When we would arrive at the park some of the homeless people would be packing up their possessions in order to avoid getting a ticket from the police. But during this time, I could focus completely on my brand and children, not bills, a job, etc. but what I really love. I was able to write more and I even got more clarity on the type of job(s) that I wanted to apply for. And one thing I was certain of is that my time in Las Vegas was coming to an end.

When I would return to my sister’s house in the evening, I would search for jobs, send off my resume, homework with the little ones, eat, shower, sleep, etc.  If I hadn’t given up my place or quit my job, moving back home would have been a thought never acted upon. After being in Las Vegas for 7 years, this was the first year that I said I couldn’t take it anymore.  I need my family; my children need their family.  So many things have been happening behind the scenes and I can’t wait to share how being almost homeless got me exactly where I was suppose to be.

I show my scars so that others know they can heal.” Someone needs to see your scars!

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Sunday Mourning