#blackgirlmagic in Costa Rica.

Storyville Coffee Company

Well, hello; it’s been a minute –

I had a wonderful time on my exploratory-exciting-but-mildly-stress-inducing vacation to Costa Rica for my #dirty30. The beaches. The people. The weather. The rickety banana seat bike from 1981 I used as a mode of transportation. The rice & beans with every meal.

I stayed in a rural village at the southernmost part of the country – Punta Banco – and sun bathed underneath the sky. I came back 50 shades darker with clear skin and an even clearer mind.

The yoga and complete disconnect helped with that.

This was my first solo trip out of the country and my first international experience as an adult – I know. I’m late to the travel game.

[In middle school, I took a “Missions Trip” with my church youth group to Juarez, Mexico – we built a house for a family in need. Several years later in college, I was supposed to dive head first into a study abroad program in Nicaragua, but ended up transferring schools].

There were about 5 of us housed at the Casa Marea Alta lodge, with some stragglers here and there— myself being the only American.

I ate most meals alongside the residents and twice a day, participated in outdoor yoga sessions on beautiful wooden gazebo in the center of the property.

In between dancing on the beach and horseback rides, I found the space to finish Terry McMillian’s, “I Almost Forgot About You” - I picked it up at Target the week before and it did what it was supposed to do: it was a light, sexy and charming story. A good beach read, summer jam about a successful middle-aged woman who comes to realize her own stagnation.

After discovering one of her former lovers has died, she decided to go back and reconnect with others from her past.

[I have contemplated doing this. Not sure if it’s a good or bad thing].

It was ok. The ending was a bit predicable.

My birthday itself came and went.

10 years. 3 cities. 3 jobs. 1 brain injury. Too many Tinder moments. Friends gained. Friends lost. OkCupid. A hell of a lot learned.

I spent some time mourning the loss of my youth.

Some would argue that I’m still quite young, however, I can no longer blame the dumb sh*t on being in my 20’s.

[Examples vary. Trust - there are many].

Ideally, by this time you should know a little better. Sadly, most people don’t.

Over the past month and a half, I have been thinking about the direction of this book.

I toggle with the idea of turning this, "loosely-based-on-true-events" story into a memoir; I had high hopes of developing fictitious reenactments.

It was a safe cloke: the things that are happening, aren’t happening me – they’re happening to the characters.

February 25th 2018 was the day I landed on the side of truth. Waking up on my birthday, coated in sweat [we had no a/c] on a hard mattress in the jungle, I had a moment.

With all of the makings of a day-time drama, why not?

Haha.

But seriously, I’m doing it. And it feels good.

Backing into a memoir means I will have to dip into places I’m not sure I want to go back to. Rewinding the clock 6 years – people, places and things that I would quite honestly prefer to forget.

It’s not too often a 20-something has a brain hemorrhage and has to figure out a way to navigate through the rest of the 20’s and everything that comes with it – in addition to relearning the fundamentals of basic skills: reading and mathematics.

Dr. Sesus books. Puzzle books. Brain games to help keep my mind sharp and rebuild my confidence.

I currently work in corporate marketing – it’s competitive and I certainly can’t use my ‘disability’ as an excuse.

I still want a career. I still want to create a "tribe". I still want to find love “in the big city”.

It sucks and continues to suck on the days when it becomes apparent that I’m still dealing with the residual effects of a brain hemorrhage.

Headaches. Incredibly debilitating migraines. Aphasia. Comprehension. Memory loss.

It’s an “invisible disease." You can not see it. For all intents and purposes, I look 100% fine.

I was 24 when it happened, so my brain was much more capable of bouncing back. Although though I am better relative to where I was, I will never be the same.

Fortunately, I have my family to thank; they stood by me every step, every tear and every meltdown along the way.

This, my friend, is the ultimate comeback I’ve been pining for since 7th grade – not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

I guess we’ll see.

Oh. One last thing: I finally got a library card.

Mood Music: Flawless - Beyonce ft. Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie