Archives for February 2020

Happy and I are moving to LA!!! Turns out our home from the water damage will take MONTHS to fix and we need stability. My eating is for shit, anxiety is high and my bones (especially my knees, lower back, and shoulders) are aching. 
Stress kills. But it will not take me out!🤣

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I have a MAJOR meeting this Monday with an EXTRAORDINARY agency/management company that feels divinely orchestrated. Since I had to go to LA for the meeting, Happy and I will use the trip to find our new home. 

I tried to look for homes myself but became overwhelmed. I get proud sometimes; like I should be able to do SOMETHING myself. But the truth is I don’t know enough about LA to make an informed decision. 
I know I DON’T want to own. I hate managing a property. I wish to lease—at least for a year as I give my dreams a chance. 

I need to give Tanya Edwards-Griffin love for waking up at the crack of dawn to give me a geography lesson about the various communities in the LA area. There are SO many! I looked up locations and became so overwhelmed I went back to bed for almost 3 hours.

🤣🤣 I finally swallowed my pride and called my realtor, Rene. He will take it from here. Rene found our San Diego home. Now he will find out LA digs! 

It is humbling to face reality. But it also sets me free to not struggle, stress and suffer by doing it alone. And it sets me up to win. To Thrive. To have what I want with ease, joy, and fulfillment. 

Speaking of facing reality, I realize I’m no longer an internet marketer. I’m an entertainer. An artist. A media personality. A brand. Like Kevin Hart. Nick Cannon. Mona Scott-Young. Tyler Perry. Magic Johnson. Oprah.  I create content that people connect with in multiple ways on multiple platforms. I didn’t realize this (until Theo, my publicist told me) but it’s ALWAYS been this way. I can’t NOT create. So it makes sense to go to where that is rewarded: LA.

In truth, I’ve been afraid of LA. Like I was scared of NYC. Let me explain.

I was accepted into NYU twice. Once for an undergraduate degree and again for my MFA. Both times I choked. I didn’t believe in me. I felt inferior. I was too afraid to try. 
So I settled. I went to undergrad school in Long Island, NY. I was close enough to New York to FOOL myself into thinking being NEAR New York was just as good as living there because I had access to auditions and shows. 

It was a lie. 

I moved to San Diego telling myself that same lie 30 years later. 

But when I saw all my belongings packed up due to the water damage in my unit, my mind jumped directly to moving to LA. I realize I have been flirting with being a performer my entire life but have been too chickensh#t to try. To believe. To commit to my dreams.

I’ve let myself be distracted by relationships, people, and even having a multimillion dollar business.
But ALL of those things broke down because they are not my destiny.

So, I surrender God. 

I give it ALL up.

The business.The money.The relationships.

I don’t need to be a millionaire anymore. I’d rather be fulfilled. AND I’m open to being both while having it all. 
My heart’s desire is to have my life make a difference. To finish the work God put in me as my conception. And I can’t do that without a full-body head/heart/soul/spirit commitment and singularity of focus.

Hear me when I say this: I am not afraid.
I have liquidated my life on purpose. When I told God, I wanted a new life, I meant it. 

And it is arising. 

So I thank all the people, places, things, breakdowns, betrayals, floodings, f$ck yous, failed funnels, unreturned emails, ignored voice mails, gossips, haters, broken communications, no communications, walkouts, deliberate sabotages, money grabbers, users, liers, rule changers, blamers, lurkers, cowards who read my words but will not speak to me in order to keep tabs, and all things/behaviors and expectations  I have simply outgrown. I thank you for it all. I forgive you. I forgive myself for attracting and tolerating you in my life. You were just a distraction from my destiny. 

No more.

I’m excited for the life that is pulling me to it like a butterfly to honeysuckle flowers in bloom.

I give myself permission to fulfill my destiny with ease, joy, authentic self-expression and fun! 

It’s time for me to reach the world. 
I’m ready. I got some sh#t to say.
Thanks for witnessing…
Dr. Venus

I can feel my anxiety rising. Happy and I came home from our Oscar party high—to all our shit packed and shoved together in the middle of the floor. My mind went back to being evicted multiple times in my childhood. Furniture sat on the curb while neighbor’s jeered and snarled at our shame. I remember putting our clothes in trash bags to protect them from the rain. I wonder, in my heart of hearts, if the fatigue isn’t so much PTSD as it is experiencing the sheer exhaustion of staying alive FINALLY catching up with me. We start shooting the footage for my upcoming Amazon Prime Docu-Series. The irony of the timing is mind-blowing. Happy and I have a place to stay while the demolition crew guts various walls in our home and patch’s them up to heal the water damaged. My balance is off. Happy has been vomiting. I get dizzy, teary and on edge with the break-in routine. And just like Happy, I get nauseous too. I dry heave because I forget to eat sometimes. And I’m eating whatever I can get to that comforts me. Including McDonald’s. Comfort food is real. I’m clear I’m triggered. Low grade triggered. But triggered nonetheless. I’ve been surrendering to living an empowered life with PTSD, Anxiety Disorder, dyslectic, being on the Autism Spectrum—aka: being legally handicap.  I’m not upset or ashamed. I’m learning how to language my need for certainty, soup-to-nuts communication, and consistency.  I realize I’m wired in such a way that I live in the literal. Most people live in the figurative. I, literally, do what I say. Most people don’t. And the unspoken, assumptive social agreement is “good enough” or “it got done.” My brain will not compute it if it’s not done like agreed upon. My ears won’t hear it no matter how loud you say it or how many times you say it to me. My eyes will read the words but the logic will not register. It feels like a gaping hole, a chasm between me and the rest of the world. I keep free-falling into the chasm. I can see myself falling feet overhead over and over again and I land in a heap of ragged bone and raspy breath in my body, sitting on the corner of Monument Street and Chase Street being splashed by careless cars driving in the rain. I try to speak but I have no words. I’m learning how to ask people to give me a context before giving me data. And also to label a communication so I know where to put it in my mind. The more consistent things are, the less I stress. The familiar comforts me. So Happy and I are sleeping in our bed tonight and perhaps tomorrow night before the walls are torn down. It’s comforting to be in my bed, scented with lavender water to soothe both Happy and I. I am proud of me for how I handled the surprise of having all my sh*t packed and pushed to the middle of the living room as if waiting for a crew of rugged-looking motherf&ckers to toss all of my belongings out the window.  I simply handled it. I talked with the manager, went and got dinner with Happy, came back, checked out the suite and then spoke again to the manager to inform her Happy will be staying in our home until we have to move out. Being home stabilizes us. So Happy’s already asleep on his favorite pillow (that he cooped from me!) and I’m starting to nod off. It’s been a fruitful and eventful week. I’m building internal systems to honor me and love me just as I am.  I’m becoming masterful at taking excellent care of me (and Happy.) And for this self-efficacy and self-reliance, I am profoundly grateful. Thanks for witnessing… Dr. Venus & Happy.