Aren’t The Small Things Always The Biggest? Part 1

So I’m out here in the world, living my best thirty year-old life and let me just tell you, it’s F–KING GREAT!!

I’m happy, appreciative, and most of all, humble.

If you read my birthday post (BTW, you definitely should), I mentioned how I use to live in hotels. Some of those closest to me were really surprised I was that honest with y’all. They know my past but they also know I don’t really talk about it too much. Just because I don’t talk about it doesn’t mean I don’t think about it often though.

Story time friends!!

It’s 2000 and I’m in the 5th grade. I was in advanced English and received nothing less than a B+ in an of my classes (I would cry if I did and bust my ass to get to an A). My teacher was Mrs. Fiore and I loved her.

All the classes in my grade were doing spelling bee eliminations to find out who would represent their classrooms in the 5th Grade Spelling Bee. Y’all, it was down to me and one of the boys… but ya girl WON!! I was so excited and couldn’t wait to get home and tell my parents the good news.

I was always a happy kid but 5th grade was a pivotal point in my life. Some life changing shit was about to happen and I had no clue how it was really going to effect me in the long run.

Okay, so I remember going home and telling my mom I won and would be representing my class. I remember being so excited. I remember my mom saying, “That’s great honey!”, with an excited tone, a warm smile, and distracted eyes.

We we in the middle of packing. We had to move. I knew we had gotten evicted but I never said it aloud. I knew my mom was doing her best and that my dad had changed into someone I didn’t really recognize.

Over the next few weeks, we lived in a couple different hotels/motels. The front-desk clerks were always so nice to my mom & always said how polite my sister & I were. Dad never went in to get the rooms. On a couple weekends, my best friends moms would let me stay at their houses so I didn’t have to go to work with my mom. (Shoutout to Ms. Paula & Ms. Martie.)

During this time, I should’ve been preparing. I should’ve been studying my book of words Mrs. Fiore had given me but I had packed it away and was too embarrassed to ask her for another one.

When the day of the spelling bee came I was so nervous. I was hoping my mom would show up for support but I knew it wouldn’t happen because she had to work. I remember looking out at my classmates as I was sitting on the stage in the cafeteria. First and second round I spelled both words correctly. Third round, I misspelled responsibility. I wanted to run off stage crying but I sucked it up & took my seat with my class. Mrs. Fiore told me I did a good job and gave me a hug.

For the purpose of this blog, that’s the end of the story.

You might be wondering what was the point of my story. Simply put: I may not have had a lot of the big things I wanted but I had the small things that I needed.

I didn’t have a “home”, but I had a warm place to lay my head every night. I didn’t have the 5th grade spelling bee champ title, but I had classroom spelling bee champ title and my intelligence. I didn’t have my mom there to hug me after I failed, but I had a teacher who cared about me. All of those “small” things carried a lot of weight for me and helped to shape my character.

It wouldn’t be the last time we didn’t have a home, or that I failed, or that my mom HAD to work so she missed something I wished she could’ve been at. That’s what made me stronger and made me appreciate of every little thing I had then and have now.

I plan on expanding this topic a little bit more (hence the Part 1 in the title) so stayed tuned!

Until next time; Be You. Do You. LOVE YOU 💜

One thought on “Aren’t The Small Things Always The Biggest? Part 1

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s