“You’re going to eat those words.”  

For most of my life, I’ve believed a diet of one’s own words is a veiled way of calling on karma to collect. With more years piled behind me than the ones ahead, the revelation has hit me like a sudden gust of wind.  

It’s not what others have told me that’s done the most harm; it’s those things I’ve failed to tell myself that’s caused the worst damage. 

Hey, Beautiful! 

Congratulations! 

You got this! 

I’m cheering for you! 

It’s been easy for me to cook and serve these compliments to the women who surround me or whom I admire from afar. (Hey, sis – this one’s for you!). The thing about me is, uplifting my sisters is the chef’s kiss topping a perfect meal. I want to see other women win, and I thrive off positivity. There’s a certain glory attached to authentically celebrating others, especially those who inspire you to the greatness they’ve already achieved. There’s truly no need to compete with the very ones we should be gleaning from. That’s why it’s been so easy for me to serve my words to those women I “see.”  

But what happens when you celebrate others so much, you neglect to fill your own plate? 

My parents raised me on humility, and I must admit, it tastes good. I’ve enjoyed fifty years of watching them clapping for others, sowing into dreams and businesses that weren’t theirs and they wouldn’t benefit from, or jumping behind people they care about to give destiny a jumpstart when it seems like the dream is stalling…including my own. To my folks, giving is a blessing. I believe that, too. So, I’ve opened my giving heart and poured out everything to ensure others feel their true worth—and it feels good because giving doesn’t hurt and kind words don’t cost a thing. 

Until you stop giving to yourself.  

What does giving look like to me?  

It’s like a hostess of a dinner party who spends hours in the kitchen, meticulously cooking the hearty proteins to the perfect temperature and toiling over the savory sides to complete the feast. Somewhere between the timer alerting that the meal is ready and the guests sitting at the table ready to dig in, she fails to fix her own plate with even a morsel of the masterpiece she created. Recently, I discovered I’m her: the chef who’s too worn out from the work to eat. I’ve failed to fix my own plate. 

At some point, I got so wrapped up in maintaining the humility I fervently prayed for that I stopped feeding myself. It got to the point where I was feeding others second helpings while my plate sat empty in front of me.  

No Hey, Beautiful! when I looked in the mirror. 

No, Congratulations! to celebrate winning another award to decorate my crowded shelf. 

No, Girl, you did that! acknowledging the latest book deal or goal I knocked out. 

I reserved the choicest words for my guests to fill them up without setting some aside for myself. In my mind, I was doing the right thing. See a sister doing big things? You celebrate her! If there’s a door you can help open? Hold it for her. If she needs a partner or an assist and the two of you are a fit? Collaborate. If she’s hungry? Feed her. My thing was, I didn’t realize the phrase, “When I eat, everybody eats” that some creatives toss around included me—even when I’ve been excluded from the party. 

Recently, I was watching the US Gymnastics Championships leading up to the Olympics. There I was again, the faithful armchair cheerleader screaming at the top of my lungs like Simon Biles, Skye Blakely, and Jordan Chiles could hear me cheering them on to victory. (Sorry, neighbors). What stood out to me was Jordan’s parents, each sporting a black t-shirt with the words, “Jordan is That Girl.” The announcer explained that the star athlete’s mantra for this year is, “I’m that girl!” which she tells herself every day. That was the lightning strike I needed. 

I’m that girl. 

I needed to eat those words. 

In less than 24 hours, three little words proved the power of small numbers. I’d been starving myself and it was time to eat. Everything I’ve strived for and all of my accomplishments have been gathering dust while I’ve been tending to everyone else’s mantle. It’s not bragging, boasting, or getting puffed up. It’s believing in yourself and sounding off! Remember, humility isn’t effective when it’s false. We don’t need to push away the plate to deny ourselves of the joy of our hard work paying off.  

So, what did I tell myself when I woke up this morning?  

“Hey, Beautiful. You’re going to kill it today!” 

And I believe this in my soul.     

Listen, words are impossible to eat, without opening our mouths. Continue to feed your sisters, but don’t neglect yourself. Remember, the words you say, are the ones you eat. Do you want them raw, unseasoned, or uncut? Or do you want them to be well done? 

Go ahead and win today. You’re that girl!