Introducing the New Meet Tyece Video + Updates to TyeceWilkins.com

April 12, 2017

In 2013 I wrote, “You write about the tough moments. The foolish moments. The beautiful moments. You write and write and write. And, then, it reaches someone. Just one person. And, that is why you keep writing.”

I have kept writing on Twenties Unscripted for nearly five years. But so much has shifted, blossomed, tossed and turned since I started Twenties Unscripted – and even since I filmed the original “Meet Tyece” video at the end of 2015. So, I decided it was time for a spring refresh.

[VIDEO] Meet Tyece Wilkins 2017 -filmed and produced by Roconia Price

Check out the video below to hear my perspective on how things have changed since I started Twenties Unscripted and what’s on deck for the next step in my creative journey.

[Refresh] Updates to TyeceWilkins.com

In addition to the new video, I’ve made a few updates to my second home – tyecewilkins.com.

  • New cover page
  • Updated bio
  • Streamlined offerings on the Work With Me page

Mad love goes to my friends Jazzmin Awa-Williams and Roconia Price for making magic when it came to the photography and video for this refresh. My presence on the Internet has certainly evolved over the years, and they’ve both been incredible in bringing that transformation to life.

And, whether it’s your first or 500th time on this site, thank you for rocking with me. It’s always exciting to see what will come next. Happy Spring.

Xoxo,
Tyece

Embracing Blessings and Waiting to Exhale

April 3, 2017

Photo by Jazzmin Awa-Williams

Listen for the whir of tires.

Any time I back out of my parents’ driveway, that is what I do. I listen for the whir of tires. With blind spots in both directions, the only way to know if a car is coming down the road is to turn the radio down and listen for the whir of tires.

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I want to collect the past three months and put them into words, but those words aren’t coming easily. I want to do the thing that feels most natural to me–wrangle the emotional cyclones and personal shifts that have been whipping around and turn them into verses. But I am not quite sure how to distill everything from this past season into a brew of letters and words. I am not quite certain how to tell you that right around the time the cherry blossoms began to bloom, my world elevated. Things changed. Layers shed. Old paths gave way to new galaxies. Prayers I never thought to utter were answered.

Yes, I want to collect the past three months, bottle them up, and uncork that bottle with prose and paragraphs and poetry. I want to walk you through the maze of emotions I’ve felt and experiences I’ve had, a maze I believe explains why I’ve spent much more time in my head than on the page. I want to tell you that many days, I still hold my breath when things seem too good to be true. I still wait for the ground to move beneath my feet. I still do the mental math of all of the dreadful things I’ve done and wonder when my good fortune will expire. I still know how cyclical and seasonal life is, and I struggle with the fine line between embracing my blessings and waiting to exhale.

But the words do not come as easily anymore. They do not always arrive at 7 p.m. when I sit down with a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. I can’t squeeze them out the way I once did. The experiences want to linger much longer. The words want to play and dance in my mind much more. And those words often times arrive at inconvenient hours, like 12:50 a.m. when I should have been in bed two hours before. The words are stubborn now; they want to wait to land thunderingly in the ink of book 2. The words don’t always want to get dropped off into an Internet abyss, a place that doesn’t feel like home as much as the crisp pages of a memoir.

Evolution is a fragile thing. A complex thing. A dense thing. Evolution is a knotted thing, not easy to photograph or document or, in this case, wrangle into words. Evolution is not pronounced or easily predicted. Sometimes it is the kind of thing you only notice once you are en route to the next place, glancing into your rearview mirror and realizing just how much the town behind you has changed.

But, if you listen for the whir of tires, sometimes, you know an evolution’s coming. You hear it, first from afar and then up close.

I did not always listen for the whir of those tires. But, they are within earshot now.

Xoxo,
Tyece

Motherhood as Poetry: Digging In With Erica Nichole

March 28, 2017

Editor’s note: Erica Nichole is the voice behind www.everythingenj.com. You can follow along her motherhood journey on Instagram at @edotnichole.

Erica and me // 2014

To Erica: We were just kids back then. We were two women writing our way through and fighting hard to find our footing in an online world that barely knew our names. At least that’s how I remember that serendipitous day back in November 2013 when we met for the first time at brunch on 140 7th Street.

It’s nearly impossible to believe all that has transpired between us and within our spheres since then. Losses and gains. Accolades and upsets. Ripped ropes and restoration. Beginnings and endings. Ground zeroes and heavenly skies.

Erica, you are my soul sister. Through and through. To the moon and back.

I can’t tell the Internet world exactly what I said on a hot day in late summer when you asked me to be Kairie’s godmother. But what I can say is that I have always believed in living a big life, and when you entrusted me with that responsibility, you made my life that much bigger. You made it grand. You made my world extend beyond myself. I am so honored and excited to share a bit of your motherhood story here. Your motherhood – how it ebbs and flows, how you share it and protect it, how it moves and matures – has always been a unique and sacred form of poetry.

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During the past year, we have witnessed your evolution from a mother of two to a mother of three. This coincides with the ways in which you’ve changed as a writer and storyteller. Tell us a little more about what’s been surging through your head and heart in the past year. 

Wow. Well, I believe giving birth to a daughter after having two sons changed the dynamics of how I view womanhood and motherhood, and those two things definitely are large components of my writing. Looking back at my journey of storytelling over the years, there was a rawness to my words and tying that into life at home with boys, reflected my style of parenting–being very straightforward, no cookie-cutter, unfiltered truth. In having a girl, that same way of guiding her is going to exist, but I’ve been focusing a lot more on my words and my why’s. Part of that is attributed to my own mother who was very straight-to-the-point, but didn’t explain the methods to her madness, so there was an air of mystery to her that complicated how I looked at parenting. I said that if I ever had a daughter, going into depth with things as to help her develop a sense of understanding on what we go through as women would play a major role in how I raise her. That promise I made to myself for her manifested itself in the letter I wrote to her which to me, is the strongest piece of writing I ever put together.

Although you were on sabbatical from blogging throughout your pregnancy, you often times chronicled your experiences through social media, specifically Facebook. What about social media lends itself to self-expression in a way that’s different from blogging?

I think with blogging, you have to be very strategic about content, especially if you’re aiming to make the shift from an online space to a brand. That’s at the forefront of my mind at this stage with Everything ENJ, so I knew that I wanted to come back strong and that would be through the open letter after my daughter was born. With social media, I was able to get my thoughts out in a way that wasn’t so structured, but still allowed me to document my pregnancy without thinking too deeply about format or editing. With blogging, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I can be a bit of a perfectionist, whereas on platforms like Facebook where I’m ‘friends’ with people I actually know outside of the screen, I write without much thought about “fancying” the content. The smaller pieces on social media segue into bigger posts on the blog which is a good balance for me as far as writing on different scales.

Since your daughter Kairie was born, you have combined stunning black and white photos with short narrative on Instagram in such a captivating way. How does photography enhance your work as a storyteller? How do the two forms of art play off of one another?

As a storyteller, it’s important to paint a picture to draw the reader into my reality. For me, I found it’s one thing to write on the memory of what something was; its another to have the ability to capture an exact moment in time and be able to relive that experience through visuals that make for more in-depth storytelling. You can look at a photo and form your own conclusions on the why and the how behind it, which is one of the things I love about photography, but it’s fusing a personal narrative with what you see that changes the point of view. I’ve always said “shifting the perspective” is one of my top goals as a writer. So incorporating pictures gives the reader direct access into what it is I’m seeing and drawing inspiration from exactly; adding a blurb or an entire blog post gives the reader insight without room for interpretation, from the angle of a mother.

Erica’s children (L to R)
Kairie – 3 months
Kamryn -7
Kaevon – 8 [photo by Erica Nichole]

You also do a great job anchoring your work with quotes and voices of other writers. What are some of your favorite quotes about motherhood?

Thanks! There are so many words I use from women of color, women that are mothers, women that have never bore children in my work, but my favorites are from Black women in the arts. I love a quote from Toni Morrison that says:

“…I never felt more free in my life until I had children. They were just the opposite of a burden. But for Black women, enslaved, to have a child that you were responsible for that was really was, that was really freedom. Cause they took those children; you didn’t have children; you may have produced them, but they weren’t yours. They could be sold [and] were sold. To be a mother was the unbelievable freedom.”

A quote from Jada Pinkett-Smith that reads:

“I think the re-massaging that we, as mothers, need to have and gravitate to is that you have to take care of yourself in order to have the alignment and power to take care of others at the capacity that we do, because it fills the well. What I believe that I do takes so much energy, so much work from the heart, spirit, and creativity, that I have to be responsible enough to take care of me.”

And a quote from Shonda Rhimes:

“All the greeting cards are about sacrifice. ‘Mother, you gave up so much for me. You worked so hard for me. You sacrificed so much. You were so wonderful and giving and selfless.’ Where is the greeting card that says, ‘Mother, you taught me how to be a powerful woman,’ ‘Mother, you taught me how to earn a living,’ ‘Mother, you taught me how to speak up for myself and not back down?’ Those are the greeting cards that should be out there. Those are the qualities that we would want for our daughters to have. I don’t want my daughters to grow up and think, ‘I should shrink and be in the background. I should be selfless. I should be sacrificing. I should be silent.’ That’s not what I think a mother is.”

How would you describe each of your children?

Kae, 8, is definitely the most compassionate and sensitive of the bunch. His challenge is acceptance, and he tries really hard to fit in and make people laugh and feel good. When that falls through, it sort of crushes his spirit because he “feels” so much. So his dad and I are working on helping him understand rejection, while letting him know there’s nothing wrong with the emotions he shows. A lot of parents kill that side of Black boys from early on, and I really want him to embrace that, but channel it properly.

Kam, 7, is the more quirky child who dances to the beat of his own drum. He’s definitely the more rebellious one and fitting in isn’t his forte. He’s incredibly smart (he’s currently in first grade reading on a fourth grade level) and he likes to be left alone most times which he takes up from his father. I’m excited to see who he’ll evolve into over time just because there are already so many layers to him that are fascinating to witness.

Kai, 3 months, already displays sides to her that are interesting because I see so much of who I am now in her as a baby. She has sass, she has attitude, she demands attention that her brothers didn’t at that age. I think she’ll pose more challenges for me as a mother and there will be more self-examination as a woman being in her presence, and that’s what both excites and frightens me for the future.

Kae, 8 [photo by Erica Nichole]

I recently joked with GG that being a mother of three seems like it’s in a different stratosphere from being a mother of one or two. What’s different about you now as a mother of three? How have you changed as a parent since having your first child?

Ha, this reminds me of a quote that’s been circulating on Instagram that said “Having one child makes you a parent; Having two makes you a referee; Three or more? You’re basically a bouncer.” On the letter to Kairie, I went on this whole journey on my road to motherhood and reflecting on the last eight years has been cathartic. Having my sons in my early twenties and then back-to-back, I don’t think I ever had a chance to really sit back and spiritually measure how much I’ve grown through raising my children until piecing that together. I just wanted to get it [parenting] right.

When I had Kae, I was very much uncertain about who I was and again, my mother and her relationship with her mother set the tone for how I viewed motherhood. It took a lot of trial and error to figure out what it is I wanted to adopt from my upbringing and my mother’s methods of raising me. Honestly, I’m still trying to figure it out, but from Kae to Kai, I’m more patient with myself and with my children. I’m more accepting with failing than I was years ago. I’m more understanding of my shortcomings, but cognizant of the fact that the mistakes I make don’t define my motherhood and I have plenty of opportunities to shift those shortcomings into successes.

What is unique and special about mothering two black sons?

Teaching them that they’re valuable in a world that views them as disposable. Guiding Black sons and telling them they matter and more so, showing them they matter, is revolutionary. They’re very much well aware of color and I know that as they grow older, they’ll become increasingly conscious of how others view them. I hope they hold on to the words and the actions that live with them because it’s going to be vital for their survival. Being the root of their existence–not just in terms of being the vessel that carried them, but the one that raised them to believe the opposite of what the world will–makes mothering them special.

What is unique and special about mothering a black daughter?

Being a daughter who absorbed everything that was said and being a mother who writes, words will always take precedence in my style of parenting, so although it’s only been a few months, I’d say knowing the words I speak into my daughter will be the reason why she’ll hold herself at such high regard. Like her brothers, she’s going to hear she’s everything but worthy, and powerful, and magical from the world, but I pray none of that becomes her because she was raised listening to affirmations of her value. If that’s radical, so be it.

From Chrissy Teigen recently sharing her struggle with post partum to Beyoncé’s twins reveal, there is a lot of rhetoric in popular culture about pregnancy and motherhood. What is affirming about these narratives? What is challenging about them?

What’s affirming is knowing that although motherhood looks different for every woman, we all share similar stories about how our lives are changed through our children. We all experience some form of loss and gain. In Chrissy’s story, it’s feeling like she lost herself after giving birth to her child; in Beyoncé’s, it’s having the ability to bare twins after having a miscarriage. No two mothers, as no two children, are the same, but it’s that underlying theme that connects us. That’s the human experience.

The challenge, however, is determining how much of your motherhood should be exposed. I remember posing a question on my Facebook when I was pregnant with Kairie on a parent’s decision to share photos of newborn babies and the feedback was mixed. There were mothers who felt women shouldn’t “tease” the public; then there was the other side that thought mothers shouldn’t have to prove something so private. Social media is to thank or blame for this.

I think with Bey and the controversy that surrounded her pregnancy with Blue sort of came this demand to share pictures of your belly. That’s unfortunate because the world we live in calls for constant access to your every move and your body. We’re sharing maternity photos and milestones, we’re sharing stretch marks and breastfeeding journeys, and while a lot of those things should be celebrated in hopes of normalizing them, it just sucks that some mothers feel the need to give, give, give just to satisfy a cultural desire and prove a point instead of aiming to shift the narrative.

Kairie, 3 months [photo by Erica Nichole]

What’s next for you as a mother? As a writer?

Well, I’m done in the baby department, so I’m just excited to raise my children and watch them grow because I know with that comes more growth within me. They’ve been my greatest teachers.

As a writer, Everything ENJ is about to undergo a major makeover for my thirtieth birthday, so that means more content soon! Nothing will change as far as what I write about, but I’ll be documenting more on motherhood because the vision is to have my children read the blog in the future. I have a few surprises I hope to roll out by the end of the year, and early next year that involves working alongside other writers, so fingers crossed that comes into fruition. And I hope to write for one or two major online spaces, so I’ll be jumping back into the pitching pool, too, in hopes of strengthening my writing.

Finish this sentence: Motherhood is: a testament to the depths of love, a reflection of ourselves through our creations, and a signifier that God does exists.

Erica Nichole is a twenty-something native New Yorker, mother of two boys and one daughter, a woman in a complicated situation and the writer behind Everything EnJ. She has penned for notable outlets including VIBE Vixen and xoNecole. Connect with Erica Nichole via Twitter and Instagram and @edotnichole.

To The Man On A Friday Night Who Insisted That I Smile

March 13, 2017

You are not thinking about this anymore. You have taken scores of footsteps since that moment. You’ve probably downed a few more beers. You’ve slept and worked and laughed and done all of the things simple people with simple lives do. But, I am almost certain that you are not thinking about this anymore.

But I am still thinking about this. I am thinking about this enough that I jotted down notes about our interaction one night while lying in a hotel bed somewhere in the Financial District. I am thinking about that five minute exchange between us that left me with too many words I should have shared that night.

I did not smile as I leaned over and asked the bartender for another glass of Sauvignon Blanc. More specifically, I did not smile at you. I did not smile at you because I did not want to, and that should have been enough. It should have been adequate. It shouldn’t have called anything about me or my character or the tone of the night I was having into question.

But it wasn’t sufficient for you. A woman electing to keep her countenance solemn was not OK because somewhere written in your book of life, “Pretty women should smile.”

And when I still did not smile because I was acute enough not to merely bat my eyelashes at a backhanded compliment, you asked why I had an attitude. I told you that you were misusing the word, that an attitude is simply a feeling, and every human being has an attitude at any given moment of any given day. I shared that I am a writer by nature and a communicator by trade, so words matter. If you wanted to chat about attitudes and such, I required you to come more correct than that.

I still did not smile.

And the last thing you said to me is what’s been burning in the back of both of my ears. The last thing you said is what’s left me replaying that conversation and gritting my teeth. Because “Pretty women should smile” didn’t work and “Why do you have an attitude?” also crashed and burned, you tried a new conversational tactic. You told me that these situations–where men engage with me and insist that I smile–would happen often in life. You told me I should just get used to them.

I told you to have a good night.

But, what I wanted to tell you is that your so-called wisdom didn’t translate. It didn’t seep somewhere deep into my psyche and galvanize a change in how I respond to men like you. You can’t teach me the things I’ve already learned and experienced. See, I have known how some men think some women should behave since the moment my hips began curving like Coke bottles.

You are not the first man who insisted that I smile. You absolutely will not be the last.

I have been told to smile on street corners and in the same breath been called unkind names. I have crossed the street at intersections that would not lead to my destination in order to avoid head-on collisions with men I don’t trust. I have worn the war paint of averted eyes coupled with straight lips. And in spite of all of these things, some days I still lose the battle of making my way through the world as a person and not a possession.

i know these things are nothing new. These words are a drop in the ocean of how women who do not smile upon command feel. Women have had the seemingly innocent sins of men stuck to them like gum on the bottom of good sneakers forever.

But, today, I had to get your gum off of my good sneakers. So I penned a few sentences. I did not fancy them up. I did not paint them in my poetry. I did not do them the artistic justice they probably deserved. Because pretty women should not necessarily smile. But they should let their words take shape before something uglier inside of them does.

Xoxo,
Tyece

On Being a Corporate Creative

February 21, 2017

I’ve teamed up with State Farm® as part of their Color Full Lives campaign, an initiative that promotes positivity & empowerment and celebrates all women in the African American community through a multitude of experiential and digital engagements. You know how this works-views, opinions, and musings of the unscripted kind are all my own. 

Somewhere along the line, I threw away either/or and picked up this and that. Somewhere along the line, I quit trying to commit to just one, linear, easily identifiable road and instead started making sense of my identity as a corporate creative. To paraphrase a tweet I recently read, I started to realize my plurality. I began to understand that the path I’m sculpting is complete with twists and turns, but it does not necessarily include some sort of fork in the road that will require me to choose one route.

My heart doesn’t vibrate accordingly to one passion. Instead, I am an assortment of layers. Interests. Skills. Talents. I am equally invested in my career in corporate communications and my creative journey as a writer. So, these days, my mindshare is devoted to everything from considering heading back to school to get my master’s to outlining what’s in store for my second book. And while I’d like to think this path, its consequences, and its sacrifices are unique, they are not. Instead, more women–both those close to me and those I observe from afar–are balancing multiple businesses, deriving income from various sources, and leaving their mark in more than one way.

I listened to strong examples of women like this in the latest “special edition” Color Full Lives podcast episode. As you may recall from this blog post last year, the Color Full Lives podcast, sponsored by State Farm, combines the influential voices of American radio personality Angela Yee, self-proclaimed “Duchess of Tech” Tatiana King Jones, and lifestyle influencer Francheska Medina, known for her brand Hey Fran Hey. The ladies are back with a limited edition run of the show, and they kicked it off by giving us a glimpse into how they’re running businesses, taking risks, and making headway on their goals.

We reunite with the ladies just as Angela has recently opened a juice bar, Fran is planning an 11-city wellness tour, and Tatiana is beginning work on a science fiction novel. Outside of these key projects, they are all also nurturing their personal lives, developing self-care and wellness regimens, and growing other professional endeavors. I identify with each of their demanding balancing acts and gleaned several gems from their conversation.

 

On writing“You have to allow yourself the slot to write, but allow yourself the slot to think. There will be times when you set aside time to write and that whole time, nothing comes out. ” – Tatiana

While I once considered writer’s block to be a complete cop out, Tatiana’s words now ring more true than ever for me as I work on my second book. Curating a body of work from the ground up is equal parts thinking and writing. A book is ultimately just as much what the author thought and felt as what that person ended up pouring on to the page. I’ve learned how to be more graceful with myself so that the thoughts and feelings have time to take shape, trusting that the words will always follow.

On understanding your worth and the value of your work:  “You can’t work for free forever; it’s just not sustainable. But how can I do that and still be fair and still be a businesswoman?” – Fran

This was one of those quotes that stuck with me long after I listened to the podcast. Fran, like many other bloggers and online content creators, has offered tons of quality content for free for years. She’s now transitioning to offering services at a price. It can be a tough and uncomfortable passage to move from free content to paid products and services, but I have found most people, myself included, usually reach that tipping point. It’s a natural evolution if whatever you’re offering is filling some sort of void in the universe. So, I’ve learned it’s important to confront your value head-on and stand firm in what you know you’re worth. When you do that, your magic reaches the right people.

On remembering to show gratitude:  “With the people that work with me, I just like to make sure I’m very grateful…when people mess up, we’re so quick to get upset, but it’s really important when people do things well to let them know they did a great job.” -Angela

I’m a sucker for handwritten notes, and thank you notes are no exception. I just recently sent out a slew of them for everyone who participated in the Love Me Well project and also dropped a few on my colleagues’ desks after a big event we hosted last month. It’s easy to move through life at hyper speed and forget to thank people along the way. But, I’ve never seen a boulder pushed uphill without at least three or four pairs of hands behind it.

I’m unsure where my windy corporate creative path will take me. I can’t quite pin down what’s next or even what it will take to get there. But, I do know that there are timeless tenets like allowing myself time to think, acknowledging my value, and remembering to show gratitude that will always keep me lifted and move me through.

This post was sponsored by State Farm, as part of their Color Full Lives campaign. For more information, or to contact an agent, please click here.