I’ve always thought people who fanned out (or worse STANNED out) were just a bit obsessed. I live in NYC and have worked in some part of the entertainment industry for over 20 years so I see people ALL THE TIME. So much that I NEVER notice anyone anymore. I’m just trying to respect folks on their “down time”.
That being said, I am OBSESSED (in a GOOD way) with Michelle Obama. First it was her education, then it was her demeanor, and then THE ARMS. For years I have coveted her arms. I still don’t have them but I’ll get there.
Seriously, her health initiatives changed my life (and it’s still changing). When I began my journey I was well over 335 pounds. I am now a little under 200, with more to go until I’m at my personal goal. I always knew I was to meet Michelle Obama. I put her and her book on my vision board. I didn’t know how, or when or why but I knew the meeting would happen. And then…
I really wanted to hear Mrs Obama speak when she was in NYC. However the Gods of timing were not on my side, and tickets were sold out all around. Then one of my sisters in an Amsterdam small business group I belong too reached out. She had an opportunity for me. It was a longshot, but I took a chance, and it paid off.
Which led to one of the best days of my life so far to date. The opportunity to meet someone who has changed my life just by living her truth. She shows that I (a little brown girl from Tulsa, OK can have JUST AS MUCH AS ANYONE ELSE at the table). She also shows/ and spoke on the reality which is that I will have to work harder and faster to be considered half as good; as not ONLY a woman but a woman in the minority. This is reality but I don’t have to let it be my reality.
I still believe WHEN THEY GO LOW, WE GO HIGH. (Thanks Mr. O for that, your wife let the cat out of the bag that one belongs to you).
Mrs. Obama was an absolute delight. Warm, funny, and she gives the best hugs. I felt like a pre-teen girl seeing her favorite rock idol, except I’m a middle-aged woman.
Some have asked me and maybe one day I will tell, why we laughing like cousins reminiscing about the time when great Aunt Gertie drank waaaayyyy too much punch.