I’ve always heard, believed and personally experienced the idea that traveling is educational. My recent trip was no less enlightening.
Onyxlyspeaking
Life happens ... and I want to write about it. From living single and dating (really, I don't make up the stuff I write about) to my favorite traveling spots to events I attend and more, this blog will not disappoint on being entertaining yet informative. And all told from my "onyx" point of view through colorful dialogue and spiritual undertones. Enjoy the ride!
Monday, October 6, 2025
America needs a vacation!
Thursday, January 2, 2025
That's a horrible idea! What time?
Seize the moments of 2025
Here we are again at the dawn of a new year, given another opportunity to achieve our divine assignments on earth.
As I grow in maturity and in, um, age – I will turn 55 this year - I’ve learned some valuable lessons of life. First and foremost, you can’t change people, you can only control how you respond to them. Number two, procrastination is essentially laziness. And I’m not lazy. And No. 3, carpe diem – seize the moment.
Monday, May 27, 2024
I did a new thing - and it was a long time coming
On Saturday, May 25, 2024, I did a new thing.
It may seem small to some, but it was a huge deal for me and one that has been a long time coming. Look closely at my face, in particularly, my left nostril. You see it? Yes, I got my nose pierced!
It was about 32 years ago when I first wanted my nose pierced with a diamond stud. I was a senior at Winston-Salem State University. When I shared with my public relations professor, Dr. Marilyn Roseboro, what my plans were for my face, she immediately scorned the idea.
"It's not professional," she said.
"But I can take it out," I responded.
"But the hole will still be there," she quipped.
"But makeup could cover it," I said to myself. Because you knew better not to go too many rounds with the Dr. Roseboro. After all, she held my final grade in her hands.
She was known for being tough. In fact, I feared her class because of her reputation. We were warned that no one gets an 'A in her class. I walked in determined to defy the odds.
And I did. I finished with an 'A' and was the envy of those who relented to the bluff and bluster of their peers (insert diabolical laugh). I challenged myself to do the assignments, to ask questions and to seem genuinely interested in the class.
In fact, looking back, my personal experience in her class was actually a real life, hands-on lesson in public relations itself. I built a trustworthy relationship with her, was responsive to her assignments and lectures, and displayed genuine responsibility: the three R's of PR.
My major was mass communications with a concentration in radio and TV broadcasting. I wanted to be in front of the camera not behind it. So I relented and decided to hold off on piercing my nose.
Back then, news anchors were required to have a certain look. Hair - straight. Body type - slim. Dress - conservative. Nose piercings - no. Tattoos - hell no.
But look around, look around. Times have changed. News anchors come in all shapes, sizes and shades. They wear short sleeves, wigs, braids, tattoos and yes, nose piercings. So do your doctors and nurses, teachers and preachers, lawyers and judges, clerks and cashiers.
And most of us should recall the distinguished TV journalist Ed Bradley, who dared to don an ear piercing while he worked for CBS' 60 Minutes.
According to an article in business.com, body modifications are becoming more mainstream. As competition for top talent grows more intense in the hiring process, many workplaces no longer frown upon tattoos and piercings.
"Labeling something taboo is dangerous for workplace transparency," said Kirsten Davidson, former head of employer brand at Glassdoor and current managing partner at Employera. Companies that let people be themselves are rated highly for company culture and values, she said. "We often saw employee feedback about feeling comfortable bringing their whole selves to work, or feeling free to be authentic."
Authenticity fosters creativity and innovation, allowing employees to produce their highest quality of work. Furthermore, employers are more focused today on the mental well-being of their employees.
Studies show that 41 percent of millennials have tattoos, followed by 32 percent Gen Xers, and 23 percent Gen Zers. Piercing data shows that nostril piercing is the second most common with earlobe piercing being number one.
Among women, 19 percent have nostril piercings.
Many years ago while a staff writer for a daily newspaper, I was promoted to news editor just before I was scheduled to get my hair braided with kinky twists. Fearing this would be shunned upon, I asked my white male publisher how he felt about me getting braids.
"I don't care how you wear your hair," he replied.
This past weekend, I didn't seek permission from anyone. I didn't consider what people would think. I only heard the refrain of influencer and actress Tabitha Brown in my head: Do a new thing.
This nose piercing is a celebration of completing my master's degree program in a few weeks, which I had put off for years. It's a declaration of my independence from people pleasing. It signifies empowerment, freedom and new beginnings.
My best friend Patricia and I walked into Black Cloud Tattoo in Charlotte nervous and giddy. We were the oldest ones in the shop. Others waiting inside cheered us on and said how excited they were of us having the courage to do it - finally. They showed off their piercings and tats and allayed our fears of pain.
As the needle penetrated my nose, my left eye watered. I didn't flinch.
And just like that, a new thing was affixed to my nose - a constant reminder that it's never too late to do something new.
Email Kimberly Harrington at onyxlyspeaking@gmail.com
Monday, April 3, 2023
All's well that ends wells
Wednesday, February 22, 2023
How did you get here? A matter of the heart
(This post was started on March 16, 2022, and completed on Feb. 22, 2023)
Never before have I paid this much attention to my heart.
It may have something to do with this white box that is attached to my chocolate skin in the center of my chest on today, March 16, 2022.
Hello, my name is Kimberly and I'm wearing a heart monitor.
There was a song a few years ago by Deborah Cox that asks, "How did you get here. Nobody's suppose to be here?" The singer was talking about a man, a lover, who slipped into her heart pass the gatekeeper.
I'm asking the same question, but of this monitor. How did it get here? Ever since my sister died suddenly of a heart attack on Dec. 11, 2011 - the first of my eight siblings to transition - I've been careful about all matters of my heart, meaning holistic care.
A few months after her death, I scheduled an appointment with a cardiologist to see how my heart was doing. He gave me a stress test and said everything looked fine, and recommended that I take a low dose aspirin when I turned 50, which was 10 years away at that time. He told me how to eat heart healthy and sent me on my merry way.
Fast forward 11 years and a few weeks ago. I was on my evening commute home when suddenly, I experienced shortness of breath, light-headedness and heart palpitations. I pulled onto a side street named Southbound. There was a church just a stone's throw away that I had just passed, so I decided to go there because that landmark would make it easier for someone to find me.
I called 911 and the paramedics met me at the church. They did an EKG in the back of the ambulance, which turned out normal, but advised me to go to the hospital anyway. I declined and said I would be careful going home.
The next day, I had two more episodes so I checked myself into the ER at Novant Health Rowan Medical Center in Salisbury. They, too, ran several tests and again, nothing alarming was discovered. I did have a slight irregular heartbeat, but it could have been normal, the attending physician said, since they did not have another test to compare it to.
I decided to make an appointment with my cardiologist - yes, the same one I saw 10 years ago - and he decided I needed to wear a heart monitor. The timing was the worst as it was only a few weeks before my 52nd birthday.
Though I've never worn a heart monitor before, my mom has. And technology has made it more bearable or should I say wearable. The clunky machine has been replaced with a cell phone. And not just any cell phone - sound the alarm - an Android. I'm a Samsung Galaxy kind of girl and defend it all of the time to my friends who are iPhone users. There is something about an iPhone that screams elitist and I'm more of an equalitarian.
But back to my Samsung Galaxy powered heart monitor.
After going to the hospital to get an echocardiogram, I had the nurse to attached the device to my chest. The white small box was conspicuous. I tried wearing clothing to cover the device but since I'm a fan of V-necks, that was nearly impossible.
Each time I felt a flutter, palpitation or heart pounding or racing, I was to note it on the Samsung Galaxy - notice the product placement again that is also conspicuous. I wore the device up until my birthday trip to Destin, Fla. I figured I had input enough data for the doctors to come to a diagnostic conclusion.
On my last full day in Destin, my best friend Patricia and I were at the beach playing volleyball and enjoying the sunshine when she said something to me that resonated. On January 2, my last living brother, Tommy, passed away with lung cancer. He wanted to live. He fought to live. I wanted him to win. God, instead, called him from labor to rest.
Patricia said, "You know, you've never really grieved your brother." I pondered what she said and realized, I had not. I am the primary caregiver of my elderly mother. I commute 3 hours a day back and forth to work. I have a demanding job as a public relations director for a private historically black college. I went straight from the funeral back to my normal routine of handling things the best I could.
My brother was my best supporter in helping me to take care of my mother. He would elder sit and offer me time away to relax, relate and release. He never complained about doing it. He just showed up. I could count on him more than any of my remaining living siblings.
They say, you know the truth when you hear it. When Patricia said those words to me. I heard the truth. In a way, I was disappointed that God did not heal my brother. I never voiced it, but it was a real feeling bottled up inside of me.
That day, on a beach in Destin, Fla., I picked up a handful of sand, told God explicitly how I felt - that I was sort of angry with Him for not healing my brother, but that I accepted His will, though I didn't understand it. I tossed the sand into the sea and whispered a prayer of love and forgiveness and told my brother that I loved him.
I will never forget that day. It was April 3, 2022, my 52nd birthday. And the day I set my heart free from stress, disappointment and heartache.
My heart didn't need a monitor. It needed liberation. It needed permission to grieve. It needed permission to cry. The anxiety attacks were simply alarms to get my attention to the deeper needs of my soul.
I'm happy to report that since that day, I have not had any more anxiety attacks or unexplained heart palpitations.
On that day, God gave me the best birthday gift ever: He gave me back my healthy heart - with a little sand in between my toes to boot.