Today marks the 31st day that I’ve been in New York. Glorrrrrryyyyy. And, if you follow me on the Instagram and my stories then you already know what it is. You know that the streets are filled with litter and smells like underneath a ball sack mixed with a dirty gym bag. You’d know that I am still in between apartments. That I wake up like death because of the miles and miles of walking and the endless stair climbing.
Also, we are in the 2nd day of Ramadan! A reflection period and also a time to get my mind right, not only spiritually but mentally.
With all that said, I have totally forgotten that it is my 7th year blogging anniversary a.k.a Blogger-versary. I would have loved to plan a special photo shoot with the numbered balloons and confetti and make a big deal out of it, but sis is just tryna make her coins to pay her inflated ass NYC bills. Okay!
How does it feel to be blogging for 7 years Leah V? Well, let me tell ya, it has been a whole ass journey.
Prior to starting this blog and IG page back in 2013, I had been writing since I was a wee lad. I used to delve into Reading Rainbow like it was nobody’s business. I was obsessed with Levar Burton’s soothing voice and the way the words and the photos transported me to another time and place. At a young age, I knew that stories were transformative. I knew that’s where I wanted to be. I just hadn’t known how I’d get there.
I started a blog which went to shit. I hadn’t known my voice. Or what to do with it. I hadn’t known marketing. Like at all. I started a YouTube that also went to shit. Then I wrote three books. None of which were published. Then I wrote short stories and little articles here and there.
I always tell folks that clearly artists love abuse, because we just keep on trying no matter how bad we look, no matter how much money we invest. No matter how many people say that our shit is shit. We keep on pushing because we see something that others don’t. And, we will do anything to feed the monster. Feed our passions.
I can’t remember what my first blog post was about. Probably something about fashion. I do remember my first real Instagram post. I had gotten some professional photos taken. That was going to be my coming out as a top-notch blogger. It ain’t happen like that but I was kinda getting the gist of modeling.
It was funny because I never wanted to be called a model. Models weren’t me and I wasn’t them. The term model meant that I was tall and statuesque and thin and thin and mostly thin with no boobs or curves or whatever. I always corrected people when they called me a model. I’d reply, “I’m just a blogger who wears cute clothes online.”
Man, I’ve been through a whole ass metamorphosis between these past seven years. Like there would be a whole book to cover it. Shameless plug: There isssss a whole book to cover it, called Unashamed: Musings of a Fat, Black Muslim available for pre-order now wherever books are sold!
Sorry. LOL. But yeah, it’s been a whole lot of shifting and failing and crying and breaks and accomplishments. It’s been a whole struggle and yet every minute of it has been wonderful. Because even in my low moments, I have learned something or emerged from the other side grateful for the good and the bad.
So, here’s to seven years of changes. Changes that I’ve been able to share with you all openly and unapologetically. And, here’s to seven more! And, possibly more than that!