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it’s ALL about me

it’s ALL about me

Last updated on: August 14, 2013 at 12:05 am by Grace Sandra

it’s ALL about me 2013-08-14T00:05:49-04:00 Grace Sandra

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Finally, I’ve finished revamping my new ABOUT page. I’d hoped to have this done & ready to be unveiled with my relatively new blog revamp -more than a month ago- but…ya know… that would have taken a modern miracle. In any case, here’s my new “about” page posted here for all my new readers and guests. I wanted to share a myriad of my archive links in interactive story form as opposed to a boring “here’s my favorite posts” list. Let me know what you think! And if you’re a new reader, PLEASE de-lurk & leave me a comment!

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Yo Yo Yiggity Yo! Let’s start with a confession: I don’t use that phrase often in real life -only to a select few- but I do LOVE me some slang, y’all. Like most African-Americans I code switch. But right here? This is my online home. I don’t code switch here. I use my words my way.

Now that that’s out of the way actual introductions are in order:

So. I’m Grace. Just a redeemed girl in the world trying to live and tell a good story.

My story is one of faith and redemption. First off, my faith is every. doggone. thang to me. I’d follow Jesus to Hell if he said ‘Grace, pack up your ‘ish and let’s go.’ I love him, I love him, I do. It’s been an honor to follow Jesus since April 27, 1996.

I’m biracial. African-American + Italian-American. I write-talk-speak about race and black people, that time when I blamed 9/11 on whites even how I’ve struggled with my kids white skin. I’m not an angry black woman but I am officially part of the racially insane. I have always felt a special call to love and serve my people including caring about the issues that define, trouble and consume us including when aliens are coming for us, our racial profiling woes and even our hair. African-Americans have my heart.

I’m a sexual abuse/turbulent home survivor. I testified in court and watched my Dad trudge off to prison. Years later, I went to visit him. It was awful. I don’t write much about that here only because I’ve been putting all that content into the memoir I’ve been working on for 8 years, Detroit’s Daughter. Obvs, I’m from Detroit.

In the last 9-ish years, I’ve had it bad with depression, with PMDD (Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder) and then with PPD (post-partum depression) for almost a year after our 2nd son was born. I didn’t write about PMDD or PPD because I was afraid to call it something, afraid to be diagnosed, afraid to admit I wasn’t just moody with hella family problems. Why was I so afraid and weird about it? Because I was depressed. Vicious cycles stink. Thankfully, the fog is lifting.

I’m passionate about justice & hope. The concept of hope has come to mean ALL the things for me. So much so, I procured a hope tattoo on my hand. Sharing my hope is largely why I write. Loving people, serving the poor, freeing the slave, highlighting global maternal health issues, giving a voice to the downtrodden victims, highlighting great orgs who support justice, are all a part of my life’s overall purpose to share the love and hope I’ve found in my relationship with Jesus.

While I write a great deal about my faith, I’m not terribly interested in dissecting the Christian Church whilst pointing out every damn flaw. Not because I don’t believe that Christians act like a hot mess but because adding to the NOISY A$$ chatter about how screwed up the Church is does not feel hope-filled to me. So. When I talk about the Church it’s usually a challenge to the Church to get our junk together because -say it with me- we can do better.

I lean towards saving my emotional angst and problem solving skillz towards African-American issues. I’ve never had the emotional resources to take on justice AND racism AND my own trauma AND the Church. This is, in part why I’ve politely declined being a Feminist. I do the work of Feminism -and deeply love, care and advocate for women- but choose to avoid the label. I’m just one person, with only one broken heart to keep mending. When I’ve spread myself thin over the years of my life, I hope everyone will know I spent my best energy, hope and tears advocating for African-Americans & for The Suffering in general. Woman AND men.

I believe in growth, inspiration, leadership and art. The art I currently embrace comes in the form of books, movies, t.v., fashion and hair. I believe in finding my inner and outer beauty as a way to honor God, myself and those around me. I try not to look like Kim Kardashian or Beyonce. Anymore. In March 2012, I big chopped and decided to go 1 YEAR chemical-free, press-free, heat-free natural. It’s been an amazing journey of self-discovery & I’ll never go back.

I’m married to a Christian missionary with IVCF. I myself was a Christian missionary (aka Campus Minister) for 12 years until my life fell apart. I was able to invest in hundreds of African-American college students in one of the best things I’ll ever do with this life of mine. Life happened. I wasn’t who I thought I was and left ministry on sad note. Ever since, I’ve been humbly putting my life back together with scissors and glue and crafty tape and prayers. I wrote an article in this book about one of my life-unraveling experiences if you’d like to TMI with me come October 15, 2013.

I’ve never been one to blog much about my husband’s work as a Campus Minister, but I will say this: he’s an incredibly gifted pastor, teacher, discipler, evangelist, leader & mentor who refuses to take part in this new-fangled internet fad. In the land of the interwebz, he’s a complete figment of my imagination.

Proof I’m not cray-cray – This is my handsome and hilarious hubby Dave. Surprise, he’s white! Here’s why I married this pretty fly white guy.

Occasionally, I write about how Dave & I have had a rough go of this marriage thing, when we’ve wanted to give up and how God keeps holding us together as beloveds…for 13.5 yrs. now. I don’t let him touch up my Rihanna mohawk anymore. That helps.

I’m a boymom of two. Most days, I love this role. On other days, I have nothing but a broken hallelujah & posts about poop. These are my lovely and equally hilarious children, R1 (7.5) & R2 (3.5). On my Facebook page, I share shituff they say, which is often LOL worthy.

I blog because I love expression. I share my life and share in the lives of others because it’s important to know and be known. I honor this value by writing in lots of other places and an assortment of guests posts. The truth about blogging since 2006? Trying to go the route of blog-to-business drove me nuts. I recently resolved that being a full-time writer-author-blogger can kiss my bootay. May I never write much more about blogging because it’s just. not. me.

As a BIG dreamer, I’ve always got ideas coming through the shoot. Pretty soon, I’ll be starting my very own Stableness Project (ala The Happiness Project). I started with a list of personal commandments & promptly stalled out. I’ve also begun laying the framework for an online e-zine for African-American Christians called The Black Sheep Magazine, though this too, has fallen victim to the many transitions I’ve underwent this year. Careerwise, I work full-time in non-profit management as the Program Director here.

So. I tell my story. Join me. Comment thought-fully. Social-media-share generously. Subscribe via RSS. Join my FB chatter. Tweet with me. OR subscribe to my quarterly-ish newsletter if you’d like to know what’s up with my book, extra giveaways, etc.

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~ Thank you so much for stopping by my scatterbrained ehome. Y’all come back now ya heard? ~

So. Who are you? Where do you blog? Where are you from?

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When God was at Blogher '13 & I talked to Queen Latifah

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