Archives for April 2023

(Good Soil) Believer or Business?

I am attending the T.D. Jakes’ International Leadership Summit. The day before the summit starts, they are launching “Good Soil” which is a one-day business initiative. This initiative is replete with training, networking, and funding opportunities tailored to entrepreneurs.

I registered months ago.

I wanted to bring my new docu-series that is rooted in my methodology about monetizing to “Good Soil.” I’ve evolved from individual to powerful and empowering partnerships.

I’ve been guided by God to seeking support instead of doing things by myself.

I have been sitting in Spirit and really grounding every dimension of my identity in God.

Including how I do business.

As I sat with Spirit, I realized my previous success was rooted in survival.

The historical trauma of class, race, and gender shaped how I did business.
For me, that looked liked doing it alone.
I was proud that I had never received loans or grants for my business.

Until the pandemic hit.

Then I, like so many other small business owners, couldn’t make money because we couldn’t gather. As a best-selling author, speaker, and business mentor, my money came from touring and live events. When the pandemic came and stayed…

… and stayed…
…and stayed…

…my business came to a screeching halt.

I had to humble myself and let my accountant apply for grants and a Small Business Association (SBA) loan from the government.

My team was composed of mothers with children as well as ailing family members. I couldn’t let them starve because I was too prideful to use the VERY structure designed to help small businesses keep their doors open during disasters.

So we applied and were awarded an awesome low interest loan.

Then something happened internally that I had not anticipated.

For the first time in my business, in my life, really, I didn’t HAVE TO HUSTLE!

This was the first time in my life, I had WORKING CAPITOL!

Can you imagine what it feels like to have the money to EXPERIMENT with new business ideas instead of generating money to just run the business?

If I tell the truth, I felt lazy.

I have been working hard since I was a teen. First, to help with the bills, then when I was living on the streets.

It took me a while to realize that I SHOULD have working capitol as a business owner.

As a poor, Black girl from the streets, I never knew it was possible.
I never considered it.
I just worked harder, sacrificed more, and REFUSED to quit.

(Can you relate?)

I brought all these strategies I had inherited to my business and succeeded. But the cost was high.

There were two survival strategies that really ran the show:

  1. debt vs investment and
  2. doing things myself vs collaboration.

As Black folk we tend to count our cash and credit cards. We will fund our dreams with our savings, 401k, or work while we build.

Black Women are the least funded demographic in America and yet we are the fastest growing segment of entrepreneurs in the USA.

We tend to NOT apply for business loans because we tend to have bad credit and no collateral.
And we don’t always have people that have the resources we need who CAN invest in our dreams.

So we do it ourselves.

That’s what I did. I funded my own dream and taught/teach my clients to do the same.

It was only AFTER I received my SBA loan did I experience the energetic shift.

I had the space to not worry about generating money to run the business WHILE creating new business.

Or pivoting from my old business model to a new one.

The SBA loan was an INVESTMENT not like a car loan which is a DEBT.

This internal healing created a shift in how I have chosen to evolve as a business women. I now partner with platforms and networks where I can lead MY genius to THEIR business.

I have built and funded ALL of my platforms—tours, events, books, merch, social media, clothing, travel, transportation, gifts, printing—ALL OF IT!

I’m no longer willing to bring the survival strategies from the past into what God is guiding me into for the future.

In order to collaborate, I had to heal my mistrust. Like so many of us, people lied, stole, betrayed, blamed, sued, and slandered my name. I had to pray and sit and meditate and contemplate until I heard from God.

My God gently whispered into my heart…

“…Bae, stop putting your trust in people.
They will fail you.
They can’t help it.
Put your trust in me.
I will never let you fall.
I promise.”

In that moment I forgave the past and took my Father’s hand. It’s in his hands I place my dreams. So I’m going to Good Soil with my Daddy holding my hand.

I asked my God should I go to Good Soil as a Believer or as a business? My God took an inhale of his Cuban Cigar and smiled with his eyes.

“Go as both. And take your new docuseries.”

I froze.

“It’s not fully baked yet. You know this.”

“I know. It’s cooked enough.”

I started to shake.

“Why do you ALWAYS do this to me???”

“Because I love you and you’re my favorite.”
I glare at my God and he just smiles at me.

Then he gently says…
“…This is the right place to share the concept.”

“But Jirah, the series is for television.
Good Soil is for entrepreneurs.”

“Do you trust me?”
“You know I do Yahweh.”
“I know you do. I asked you to say it so YOU remember you trust me.”

Now I smile at the love of my life.
He is so good with me.

“It’s the right place for you to begin.
They will be able to hear you and get you to the right places and people.”

“It’s only the concept Lord.”
“Get a deck made that clearly lays out your concept. Then talk people through your vision.”

“Why would anyone talk to me about a series that is still in the ideation stage.”

(My God smiled with a gleam of reckless provocation.)

“Give them a reason to.”
“Like what Ralpha?”
“Oh I don’t know… wear a tee shirt daring folk to ask you about the show.”
My jaw dropped.
God laughed out loud!

It was a precious sound to my soul. Like petals falling into the seven seas and breaking the surface as eagles gliding upward toward the sun.

I started to smile.
I do love my God.

“You got jokes.”
“I’m serious, Bae.”

“You know,” he pauses as he indicates to Gabriel to pour him another shot of aged bourbon, “you could ENJOY this.”

I sat back and received this gentle wisdom.
I don’t have to work hard?
I don’t have to make it happen?
All I have to do is trust my God, be my authentic self, and share my dream?

What if this is what it means to transform?
To literally let go of all that has worked in the past and just go and trust?

“Ok Lord.

I’ll get the deck and some tee shirts made for Good Soil—“
“For the entire summit.”
“Because you need to practice talking about your dreams, my precious one.”

I became still on the inside.
My Daddy gave me a gentle hug and whispered in my ear,

“With every vision, I provide provision.
Share your series, your story, your success. Let yourself shine.
The right people reveal themselves.”

God held my face in his hands.

He does this when he wants me to deeply comprehend his will for my life.

He looked into me and spoke with the quiet conviction only a father can give his child…

“You are safe.
You are ready.
You are not alone.
I am with you.”

I hugged His neck tight and cried.

Yahushua held me close.
He rocked and baptized me with own tears.

I AM safe.
I AM ready.
I AM not alone.
I AM with God.

My God is MY good soil.



I feel…


I’m IN LOVE with the dimensions of color in my hair as well as the health and length of it!! Wait until you see it blown out! 🔥🔥🔥

In truth I was terrified.

Color is a game of chance.
I searched FOR WEEKS to locate a salon and colorist that was:

  • Customer-focused instead of celebrity-driven
  • Black-Women Owned (keep that dollar circulating amongst us!)
  • MASTERFUL at color, cuts, and hair care.I’m growing my natural hair out and learning how to take care of it as well as setting up regular appointments with my Colorist so my hair grows healthy and strong with color.I figure if I can grow my business I can grow my hair.

    Here’s a fun short video of my new do!

    I knew I wanted a “wash n go” lifestyle so I can crush it at the gym. I also knew I wanted my hair color to be something I loved and wouldn’t get bored with over time. Lastly, I wanted to evolve my brand “Hot Mess Millionaire” and style.

    I will be dropping a new masterclass about monetizing your mess soon. I will be doing a new photo shoot with my natural hair. I wanted a new look that was livable instead of defaulting to braids or faux locs.

    I wanted to feel pretty with my own hair.

    I prayed on it and felt good about coloring it but didn’t know what color.🤦🏾‍♀️

    My colorist and I looked at TONS of photos! I kept oscillating between red and blonde. One of my colorist’s amazing team members suggested I check out “golden ginger.” When I saw the mixture, I was like, “that’s it!”

    I found a photo of a short tapered cut with golden ginger color, and felt ready to committed to this evolved blonde look!

    I came in the week before color to have my hair shaped so it “falls” as it grows out. I had a collective hair treatment followed by steam treatment so my hair was healthy and optimized the color.

    (I will include photos of the entire color process in a following post.)

    Once it was all done, I LOVED IT!

    This had to be the BEST experience I have EVER had in my LIFE with a stylist!! Nerdish Brands SLAYED my custom color and cut!!! I was soooooo taken care of!

    The Nerdy Colorist was patient, funny, and VERY educational! Her team was absolutely AMAZING!

    It’s nice to feel pretty.
    AND it’s great to feel good.
    AND it’s also a blessing to trust a colorist with my sense of self as I ground even more in God.

    I knew I was evolving. Now I can see it.

    I feel like I look like me now.

    I love the version of me I am becoming.

    God is so very, very faithful…

There was blood everywhere

There was blood everywhere…

I hadn’t seen this amount of blood coming from my face since I was living on the streets.

No. That’s not accurate.

I had seen this amount of blood gushing from my face since I was in Momma’s house.

I was working out at the gym and slamming a medicine ball. Long story short, I misgauged the angle. I slammed the ball on the ground hard. It bounced up and smashed me in my nose.

There was blood every where.

I stumbled to the bathroom, blood POURING from my nose.

I pinched my nose while I looked for paper towels. There were none. This gym was high tech and had the electronic hand dryers.

So I resorted to toilet paper to stop the bleeding and clean up my bloody mess.

But when you add water to toilet paper it degenerates into paper mache without the glue.

And it makes the blood run:

On the counter.
Down the mirror.
On the wall by the sink.

I could hear myself saying, “It’s may fault.
I messed up.
I’m in trouble.
I’m so sorry.
I can’t do anything right,” etc.

I kept trying to clean up my mess.
I felt panic in my chest.

I heard Spirit gently whisper, “Be still.”

I stopped.

Why was I cleaning up WHILE still bleeding?
Why was I trying to get rid of all the evidence that I was hurt?

It was in that moment I feel backward into memory.


Whenever I would be maliciously beaten—with an extension cord, broomstick, waterhose, whatever in reach—I would be made to clean up the “mess.”

I was told I had brought it on myself.
It was my fault.

That I was clumsy.
I made them do it.
I brought it on myself.

So I cleaned up to not get into MORE trouble AND to make sure no one else did either.

Free fall forward, back to the gym bathroom.

I took a deep breath and stopped cleaning.

My cousin and Happy were waiting outside the bathroom for me.

Happy ran to me like I was water in a desert.

My cousin got ice and told me what to do to stop the nose bleed.

I relaxed in my chest.
I wasn’t alone anymore.
I was safe.

It took a week or so for my nose to heal and for the swelling to go down. It was hard seeing my face swollen and bruised—flashbacks are real LOL—but something miraculous happened.

A tender mercy from God, really.

I. Stopped. Cleaning.

If you have ever been hit, punched, or beat, the abuser makes you feel like it’s your fault.

The way I survived those beatings was by cleaning up all the evidence that showed that I had been hurt, thereby avoiding further “punishment” and getting my abusers in trouble.

But in the gym, when I stopped cleaning and stated to tend to ME, I cut the cord to that painful part.

I don’t have to clean up bloody noses, broken ribs, sprang arms nor hide bloody whelps on my legs, back, and arms.

I don’t have to protect me anymore.
I don’t have to cover for them ever again.

In the gym, there WAS blood everywhere.
This time it WAS my error.
But it wasn’t malice.

It was a mistake.
And mistakes can be forgiven.
So I forgive me for accidentally hurting myself.

Forgiving myself let’s me know I have healed another wound from the past. I’m not recycling generational trauma.

I’m healing it…

…with self-love.