I know it's been forever since I've posted to the blog, but it's actually a sign of growth. The last quarter of 2019 I went through some major personal and professional changes. To be honest, I didn't have the words to explain the experience in writing, so I just pressed pause. It turned out to be a super healthy choice for me because today I am better mentally than I've been in a long time.
I know we've talked about my choice to jump into therapy to work on my mental health, so much of last year was dedicated to that work. It started out interesting and somewhat fun, and I thought doing the work would be just that: cute. Turns out, doing the work opened me up in unexpected ways. It made me finally face the trauma of my past that started all my sucky thought and behavior patterns. It was messy. Very messy. But I finally got clarity and the healing I needed.
I'm happy to say that today my mind is in a good space. I'm content. Things internally are pretty quiet. There are still moments when my mind and body react in unhealthy, irrational ways, but now I know something simple triggered it, like being tired. Other than these rare moments, my inner life is pretty peaceful, and it scares me a little. Now my challenge is learning how to function as a mentally healthier person and not revert back to disfunction. It was unhealthy but it was familiar, so staying healthy is a choice I have to make every day. Every day I prioritize nourishing my spirit, and I'm still in therapy.
What really helped me get to my root issues? I can tell you that a painful experience started the whole thing. I'm not going to tell you that whole story here because: I'm not ready, and I'd prefer to share it with you artistically when I'm ready. Just know that you will know one day.
For now, thank you so much for just taking the journey with me. I'm going to pause on the blog and start something new. Since I have this renewed sense of clarity, I feel like I'm starting from scratch as an adult and as an artist. So, I'm vlogging about that experience. Specifically, I'm vlogging about treating my acting career like a business (instead of a dream) and the weekly actions I have to take to make that happen.
You can find those updates on IG @cyrahhill and on Facebook. I think it's going to be fun! If last year was about personal vulnerability, this year is mostly going to be about professional vulnerability.
Thank you again for riding with me so consistently, and if you have any questions or comments, let me know ;).
All love and hugs,
I was five months pregnant and getting anxious. Everyone told me that once I had a baby everything would slow down. As an actor, that was the last thing I needed to hear. I did everything I could to defy the odds. I had several talks with my mentor, talked to a working actor (who just had a baby three months prior), stayed active in an on-camera class and self-submitted for every project I could get my hands on. Oh, and I figured out how to dress, so that no one would could tell I was pregnant in my auditions. I told myself that my goal was to book at least one good gig that I could work until giving birth. Then, I got the opportunity.
I was invited to audition for one of the biggest theatre companies in Atlanta. It was just a general audition, so it was just supposed to be an introduction. “This is my work. Nice to meet you. Hope you hire me one day.” That was the expectation. I was well-prepared but loose. Eager but not thirsty. My audition was solid. I could tell the casting director liked me because we talked for a while afterwards, and the vibe in the room was completely positive.
Within days, she (the casting director) invited me to audition for a project she was casting. It was an understudy role for a play, but it was perfect. It was paying. It was a great script. And most importantly, I was right for the part. THIS. WAS. IT.
I went in and read for the role, and I was offered the job on the spot. I was ELATED. I left the room on a high that day. I’d proved to myself that I could do this. I could be a working actor and a mother. People told me that I couldn’t be pregnant and work, but they were wrong. I just got a paying gig that would be my job until it was time for me to give birth. I called my mentor to celebrate.
Her response: “Does the casting director know that you’re pregnant?” Dang. I didn’t even think I needed to disclose that information. I was a good actor and becoming a mother had nothing to do with that. My mentor patiently explained to me that in theatre, costumes are important. If you can’t predict what size you’re going to be in a couple months, that might be a problem if you need to go on. She told me that I could keep my pregnancy private, sign the paperwork and potentially piss off the casting director. OR I could tell the casting director, hope for the best and at least keep my relationship with casting intact. I chose to tell the truth.
I pulled the casting director out of her audition session and told her that I was pregnant. She thanked me for telling the truth but told me that I couldn’t do the job. Even though I wasn’t visibly showing at the moment, we couldn’t predict what I would look like in a couple months, and the character I was going to play was not pregnant. She was sorry, but she said she would have to go in another direction.
I was crushed. I’m pretty sure that’s the first and only time I cried over a job. I felt betrayed. I was given a job, and it was taken away in the same breath. I was being punished for being pregnant, and I was also being punished for having integrity. It sucked. I cried and cried and cried. Eventually I got over it. I told my coaches about what happened, and they both agreed that I did the right thing. Either way, this rejection made me want to stop trying.
A few weeks before giving birth I stopped taking classes because, well, Braxton Hicks. I focused on just having a baby. I gave myself over to the process, attitude and all.
I had the baby.
My life changed.
And 8 weeks later that same casting director called me back in to audition for the lead in a play. This time it wasn’t an understudy role. It was a featured role. I did well, got a callback, but the director went in another direction. But the casting director hired me as an understudy for that same role.
Truth be told, this play was more appealing to me than the first. The script was a challenge. The role was juicy. It was everything I could have wanted right after having a baby. But that wasn’t all. I booked a couple commercials. I worked on this play. I got an agent that was a better fit for me and started auditioning like crazy. The casting director that hired me for the play kept calling me in for other stuff, and she still calls me in for great projects to this day.
The point is that I put myself out there and was disappointed by the initial rejection. I could not understand why it wasn’t working out for me when I was clearly talented enough to handle the work. It just wasn’t the right timing. At that time in my life I needed to focus on adjusting to motherhood. I needed to embrace the idea of having a baby. All the work I put in wasn’t in vain. It set me up for when I was ready to do more. It launched me into a better place in my career.
So, to the person dealing with the pain of rejection: feel the feels. How you feel right now is completely normal and valid, but it isn’t a good reason to close your heart. Keep doing the work and putting yourself out there. It will pay off eventually. And when it does, it will be sweet. I promise.
I got up at 6am on a Saturday morning to do my morning routine (prayer, meditation, reading scripture, etc.) After I finished, I jumped into morning chores because we were expecting guests. My husband and I host a brunch potluck for a small group of young married couples in our home a couple times a month. That meant the house needed to be cleaned, a dish needed to be made, and our discussion questions needed to be solidified by 10am.
After my morning routine, I stared cleaning in a quiet house. No kid asking me a million questions. He was still asleep. No husband making beats while he worked. It was just me and my thoughts. I did that for a little while until I realized my kid was probably awake. I opened his door and told him to start his wake-up routine. He and I cleaned around the house until 8am. Then I started feeling stressed.
My husband was still asleep, and there was still a ton of work to do. Our son got up in the middle of the night to “go to the bathroom” and didn’t. So, he woke us up for no reason. My husband didn’t go back to bed immediately, so he was trying to make up for the lost sleep.
I had a decision to make. Let him rest and prepare for the group myself, or disturb his sleep and ask for help. I chose the latter. “Babe, hate to disturb your sleep, but it’s 8:00am, and we have guests arriving at 10:00am. I really need your help.” His response, “I know babe.” He was a little frustrated. I walked out of the room and got back to work. He came out and said, “You know I didn’t immediately go back to sleep after the boy got up?” My response, “I know.” I walked away and kept working. He was frustrated, but I was relieved. I asked for what I needed and didn’t have to prepare alone. No anxiety. No guilt.
We’ve been married for six years now. Early in our marriage I used to spend most Saturday mornings angry. I would get up early and clean around the house without help. My husband would sleep in and wake up with a smile on his face and wonder why I was frustrated with him. This was before we hosted a small group and before we had a baby. I used to do so much work, never ask for help and get mad when he had the audacity to let me do all that work alone.
First of all, there’s no rule that says you HAVE to get up early on Saturday mornings. I do that because I enjoy it. He doesn’t have to. Second off, we never pro-actively discussed who was responsible for each chore. We just assumed that if someone saw something that needed to be done, they’d just get it done. I’m a little more of a neat freak, so guess who normally ended up cleaning first? Me. Lastly, the hardest grown up lesson I had to learn is that a closed mouth don’t get fed. I have to ASK for what I want. If I don’t like something, I have to ask for less of it and ask for more of what I DO like.
So, instead of playing the “good wife” role and letting my husband sleep in (while PISSED OFF on the inside) I asked him to wake up and help me. And he did. He was a little ticked at first, but I let him have that. I didn’t need for him to have a good attitude. In that moment, I needed help, and I got what I needed. Eventually, he got over it, and he was really happy that I was happy. No hostility. No emotional distance. I was good, and normally that’s enough for him to be good as well.
We don’t have this moment every Saturday. Most weekends we both kind of move at our own pace, and that works for us. But we have shared responsibilities, and I’m grateful that I’ve grown up enough to ask for what I need in confidence and truth. AND I’m grateful to have a partner that gets it
So, remember when I started that six-month noise fast a couple weeks ago? Well, I decided to end it. I don’t have a deep reason really. I was working from home and got bored with the silence, so I listened to some positive music. It inspired me, and I worked better.
A couple days after that I decided to watch tv with my husband. I hadn’t done it in a while, and he loves it, so I gave it a shot. It wasn’t super uplifting, and it felt like a waste of time. BUT it was just one hour out of all of the other productive hours I have in the day.
I haven’t gone full-on back to noise. I have some boundaries. I try not to watch more than 30 minutes of tv a day, and I listen to music in the background when I’m working. Whenever I feel like I can’t hear myself think, I turn it all off until I feel centered again. My morning routine of prayer, reading and meditation are still non-negotiable. Whenever I need a refresh of any kind, I just get up and go for a walk around the neighborhood. It keeps me physically healthy, mentally clear and spiritually centered.
There are days that I may opt to just work and play without noise. It’s easier to be present that way. But I’m learning that I don’t have to go to an extreme to make that happen.
I did pick up a few things from my noise fast that I think are worth sharing though.
I’m proud of myself for trying it out and deciding to stop when it started to feel like a chore. I will keep silence as a part of my daily practice but sprinkle in some noise when I feel like it: keeping everything balanced. If I’m feeling overstimulated again, I’ll just hop back on the noise fast. It was helpful overall.
My stylist blow dried my hair as we chatted. She was getting ready to twist it when she said, “You know, one day you should just wear it like this. You have BEAUTIFUL hair.” She was right. With my hair blown out like that, I looked like a young Diana Ross. I was inspired and was immediately feeling myself. I told her that the game plan was to take my headshots with my two strand twists, then we’d experiment with the big hair later. Then it happened . . . I changed my mind. I said, “You know what? Let’s take a risk. I want to do something different anyway.” She asked, “Do you want to send a picture to your manager to double check?” Me: “Nope. It’s cute. She’ll love it.”
I took a weekend to get used to taking care of the big hair. I was proud of it. I felt like a queen. I got compliments in the grocery store. I took selfies. And if you know me, that’s a huge deal. I only do that when I’m REALLY feeling myself.
We scheduled an appointment for the morning of my photo shoot just to make sure my hair was still cute. I stepped into the salon already feeling fine. My stylist agreed and even took a picture of me walking into a salon with my super high confidence. She did a restyle and sent me on my way.
I arrived to set, and it happened. I stepped into the WORST humidity. I figured it would be fine because we were prepared. My hair was to be pulled back until we were ready to shoot. When I got into the studio, I brushed my hair out and told my photographer I was ready, but after a few photos I could tell that my hair was out of control. I tried to tame it by brushing and combing it between takes, but it was difficult. By the end of the shoot, I saw a few photos I liked in spite of the fight with my hair. I went home feeling accomplished. It was a fight, but I won.
I paid the photographer, got the images back and immediately sent my top pics to my team. My agent got back with me and only liked one look out of the two. My manager didn’t like ANY of them. It wasn’t the makeup, the photographer or the wardrobe. It was my hair.
If you know anything about my journey this year, you know that’s a sensitive topic for me. I’ve been wearing my natural hair for about eight months, and I’m just now really OWNING it. I was so frustrated when I realized she didn’t like it. I felt silly for liking something she hated. I felt silly and small and went to bed mad.
When I got up to pray, I felt like God was telling me to not be offended. It’s my manager’s JOB to tell me if my look is working or not. It’s her job to look out for me. It’s my job to be the wild creative that just makes art. She’s my buffer. I was essentially mad at my buffer for doing her job!
Truthfully, I’m working on a major career level up, and I could use all the help I can get. This time my help came in the form of some feedback I didn’t want to hear. This week I was reminded that feedback can offend me or grow me, so I chose growth. I emailed my manager, thanked her for her feedback and asked her for direction. I never want her honesty to stop, even if we disagree. If what she has to say will help me grow, I’m here for it. And next time, I’ll be sure to send a picture first!
The good news, no, the GREAT news is that I FEEL GREAT! My body has pretty much healed up, and I have a ton of energy. My family and friends now have to deal with my endless need to create, plan, act, dream, talk and make people laugh. The good news is that I feel like myself again.
The bad news is that my forced “sabbatical” introduced me to some pretty dark thoughts. Actually, I don’t know if it introduced those thoughts as much as unearthed deep-seated beliefs that I didn’t know were there. They are impractical fears and ugly beliefs based on experiences that I witnessed but never personally had. My mind is MUCH better today because I was forced to work on it the last three months, but there are some residual thoughts there much like the residual symptoms that let me know my body is strong but still completing the healing process.
So, I decided to go on a thought fast. Basically, for the next six months, I’m giving up entertainment like tv, movies, music (le sigh) in exchange for reading that will enhance my thought life (i.e. the Bible and books on subjects that will help me level up).
Why so long? Well, I realize that most of these thoughts have been dormant in my mind for years, some of them at least a decade. I’ve allowed the circumstances of life to “dump” these ideas into my subconscious mind without evaluation or challenge. This is my way to aggressively acknowledge my thought life while still being kind to myself. Instead of distracting myself from my thoughts, I’ll be addressing them and filling my mind with new thoughts: creating my new life from the inside out.
Why not food? The last three months I’ve basically only eaten fruits, vegetables, nuts. I ate very little meat on occasion to for nutrients, but that’s pretty much it. I’m ready to round out the food groups again, in moderation. But my nutrition isn’t the root issue, my thought life is. I’m doing a “cleanse” for the mind.
What am I hoping to get out of this experience? A stronger mind. I want my knee-jerk mental reaction to be positivity, rather than the absolute worst. I also want to see progress in my professional life, which I’ve hindered with years of my mental negativity. Lastly, I want to see the complete manifestation of healing in my physical body; I want the healthiest, strongest version of my body that I’ve ever had. So, a fast is worth it in my opinion.
I hope the experience is awesome! It might be boring over time. Who knows? I’ve never fasted this long for anything. I’m proud of myself for taking this step to better myself. I just ask that you pray for your girl because six months is a long time. I promise to keep you posted!
I wrote myself a love letter this week. It gave me a little lift and made me smile. I encourage you to do the same for yourself. It’s a beautiful exercise. Here’s mine:
We’ve spent a lot of time over the last three months healing physically and emotionally, and I just want to say that I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you for not running and hiding when things got scary. You faced the ugly, frightening parts of yourself and made yourself deal. You cried fear out of your system, said goodbye to painful memories and the need to have total control. You got to know God: presented the most vulnerable version of yourself in prayer and experienced total acceptance. You embraced silence and learned how to fill your subconscious with healthy thoughts. You dealt with a hard season and came out stronger on the other side. For that, I salute you.
I love your commitment to truth,
Your passion for peace,
Your courage to pursue what feels impossible sometimes.
Your smile is contagious.
Your groundedness is enviable.
Your willingness to learn excites me.
Don’t let life’s circumstances define you: you already know who you are. Stay open to love. So much of it is available if you refuse to close your heart. Freely receive it and freely give it. Stay honest, even when it scares you. Keep believing for greater, and it will happen honey.
You will see your dreams come true.
You will end generational curses in your lifetime.
Your children and grandchildren will call you blessed and want to model their lives after yours.
Health, wealth and sweet companionship are yours. Expect and accept nothing less.
I love you.
I see you.
And I’m so stinkin’ proud of you.
Who’s in your five? A mentor of mine asked me that question, and I honestly couldn’t answer. He was saying that when you have a challenge in life, lean into the five closest people in your community.
Over the years, I’ve developed a tribe of very positive, inspiring people. I have a church home, lead a small group for young married couples, live on a street where everyone knows everybody, teach an acting class, take an acting class, participate in a group chat and keep up with family. My tribe looks great on paper; it consists of people I look up to, people I mentor, people I do life with, people that make me laugh, people that show up when asked. On the outside, I’m surrounded by good folks. But my mentor made me realize something: I hadn’t really let any of them “in.”
Here’s a perfect example. On my wedding day, I handed out three plaques to the women in my life who have stepped up as “mothers” in my life after my mom passed. In essence, I was telling saying, “Tag, you’re it. When I need a mom, I trust you will show up and support. In turn, I will show up as a daughter and love your family as my own.” It was a beautiful gesture, and I’ve been in contact with all of these women. But overall, I’ve only really talked to them about how life is going when life was too hard for me to handle alone. That’s not relationship. If my mom was still here, I would show up for dinner and check in just because. The reason I haven’t really done this with these ladies is because I don’t want to be a bother.
So, back to my “aha” moment with my mentor. “Who’s in your five?” I decided for the first time to conduct an experiment. Typically, I go through challenging times in private and celebrate the victory with my tribe after I’ve gone through it . . . alone. I know that’s crazy, but what can I say? It’s learned behavior. So, here’s the experiment. The last time I was in the middle of a challenge, I decided to reach out to my tribe. I mean everybody. I wanted to know what it felt like to be supported; I texted/called my substitute moms, messaged my small group, texted my friends in the group chat and called my dad.
The result was interesting. Some people didn’t respond at all. Some people didn’t know how to respond. Some gave me the basic, “love you, praying for you” response, and they kind of disappeared into the business of their own lives. (I’ve done this before SOOOO many times, so I’m not judging.) I had hour-long conversations with others: people I hadn’t really talked to in years. Some people LITERALLY showed up, which surprised me.
Now that I’m better and on the other side of the challenge, I learned something about my squad. Not every relationship is created equal. Some people, I’m there to serve. Some people are clutch when I’m in a bind and need good advice. Some people are great at just being there. Some people support me well and are safe to lean on. I learned that in order to have true relationships, I have to let some people in. I don’t have to let everyone in, but I need in “inner circle.” They can’t just orbit around my life, they have to be invited into the messiness of it, and in turn, I need to jump into theirs.
So, I chose my five. They’ve always been there, but I’m proud to say that over the last week, I’ve contacted all of them and intentionally let them in. They may change over time, and that’s okay. The point is that I started a journey of vulnerability in my closest relationships, and I’m elated! I’ve had some “just because” conversations. I’ve also had some long, hardy belly-laughs. I’ve had some deeper conversations, with awesome exchanges of wisdom. It’s been amazing. I feel supported. I feel loved. I’m not doing life alone, and it has been life-giving to my soul and body. My friend, I hope and pray that I maintain this practice because it’s just so healthy. I feel a difference already. I also pray that your squad supports you well and that you “belong” somewhere. If not, take the risk and start letting someone in. We were made for that kind of thing.
We were helping my in-laws move. Well, my husband was helping my in-laws move. I was sitting around and catching up with family. I’d just gotten off bedrest and didn’t want to overdo it, so I was just kind of there, hanging out.
On our way back home, I was deep in thought as I watched the trees go by. My thoughts: why do certain areas of my life seem to just fall into place, but other areas feel like a constant struggle? My recent health issues were overall non-threatening but seemed to go on much longer than necessary. What was the hold up? I thought about it, had some light conversation with my husband, realized it was late, and let my musings go.
I woke up at 5:30am the next morning for quiet time and did some reading, praying and meditating. While reading, something popped out at me in a different way. I was reading a Bible passage in Matthew. In the story, someone approaches Jesus, asking him to cast out a demon that his disciples couldn’t. His disciples struggled, but Jesus was able to do it with ease. When his disciples asked why they couldn’t cast out the demon, Jesus said, “Because you have so little faith.” Then he went on to teach them that if they have faith, “Nothing will be impossible for you.” I felt like God was whispering the answer I needed to my spirit.
The reason why I struggle with certain areas of my life is my lack of belief in those areas. The reason I win with ease in other areas in my rock-hard confidence.
For example, I never worry about making rent or paying the mortgage. My husband is a contractor, and I’m self-employed. It’s been that way our entire marriage. Before I married him, I was self-employed, so we technically don’t always know where our next check is coming from. We are responsible adults who work, budget, pay bills, save. But sometimes life happens. When it does, I don’t worry. I trust that we will have a roof over our head, clothes on our back, food to eat, and a way to get back and forth to work. For whatever reason, I’ve always felt like those things would just work themselves out. God will provide. And he does. Every. Single. Time.
I’ve also always believed I was worthy of healthy romantic love, so I’ve never been pressed. When I was single, I repelled romantic drama and attracted healthy relationships. Meeting, dating, marrying and living with my husband has been a simple and beautiful process. And I’m STILL not pressed. If he changes his mind and wants to leave, he’s free to go. I don’t own him. He doesn’t own me. We’re both here because we WANT to be. If he did decide to leave, I’m sure that someone else amazing would come along. I don’t worry about it. I almost never think about. There’s so much ease in this department of my life because there’s ease in my heart.
The recent struggle with my health was a result of my mental back and forth. I would have one symptom, then worry for weeks as my body healed. Then, I’d get another symptom, and the worry cycle would start all over again. I was holding the issue too tightly, trying to control something that I ultimately couldn’t. What I learned is that the way I believe really does affect the outcome of my situations. The key to my victory is a sense of ease: releasing the issue and trusting that it will all work out in time.
Where am I with this now? Mentally, I’m in a good place. I finally stopped worrying. I still have some symptoms that I don’t understand, but they are minor, and I’ve prayed for wisdom. While I’m waiting on the answer, I’ve let the issue go. I’m now clear that manhandling my problems doesn’t work, so I’ve chosen to release my problems and just stay on the healing path, no matter how long it takes.
September 1st is kind of my New Year. Every summer I’m working on something that takes up a lot of my focus, and I normally come out on the other side with a renewed sense of clarity. Without fail, God gives me a vision for the coming year right around that time, so I have a fresh set of goals every September 1st. I used to fight the urge to do this mental purge and planning session in early fall because it made me feel like a loner. The rest of the world seems to catch the planning spirit around the actual New Year. It’s kind of fun to see how other people are progressing with their goals the first half of the year. But this year I finally made peace with the notion that my New Year starts in the fall. I create something awesome over the summer, take a short vacation and the planning begins.
This year, my process was as follows:
Created a vision board – This is actually the first year I created a vision board for my life. I’m normally a bullet point goals type of gal, but with my minor health issues this year, I really wanted to see something positive. I’m actually still working on the physical vision board, but I created an inspiration board in IG that’s a pretty good proxy. It worked well enough to get my creative juices flowing for the rest of the planning process. I have images of the following areas on my vision board: spiritual, emotional/mental, health, relationships, career, material (stuff), experiences (like travel). Instead of focusing on targets or accomplishments on my vision board, I focused on how I want my life to feel overall. I think of my vision board as my “big picture” ideal. Whenever I have a free second, I jump on IG and scroll through my inspiration board, and it makes me smile.
Created my one-year goals – I normally start with my five-year goals when I’m planning, but this year I skipped it. That’s probably because my vision board this year scratched my long-term vision casting itch. Also, I have a really aggressive one-year career goal for 2020, and I’ve decided to put a significant amount of energy and focus into manifesting that one goal. I guess I’m on that “dream big, focus small” line of thinking this year. I did create goals for different categories of my life, and they are all specific, measurable, attainable, relevant and timely. It took me about half a day to really drill down on what was important for me to accomplish over the next year, but I’m satisfied with what I’ve come up with.
Created my one-year plan – This part of the process was all about HOW I’m going to accomplish my goals for the year. It’s normally the most frustrating part of the planning process for me because if I can’t come up with an actionable plan for a specific goal, I force myself to take the goal off the table for a time until I can figure out how to make it happen. This is usually the stage of the planning process where I re-evaluate my goals as well. I ask myself questions like, “Am I trying to accomplish this particular thing to boost my ego, or is this really bringing value to my life and others?” “Does this goal align with my purpose?” I try my best to get to the bottom of why I want to accomplish a particular goal, so I’m not wasting my time and effort on a cause rooted in a terrible motive. In this phase, some goals get scrapped all together, so I’m only left with what I feel a deep conviction to accomplish.
Set up accountability – This is the first year I’ve made it a point to be accountable outside of myself for getting ish done. I wanted to join an accountability group, but I got frustrated and impatient looking for something that would work for me. Instead I opted for electronic accountability, and it’s working super well for me! There are some goals that are task oriented and take step by step action to accomplish. I dumped those goals into an online system that helps me track my progress for those goals. But I also have healthier habits I want to implement this year (like taking dance classes regularly) that I dumped into a habit tracker app on my phone. The app has been SUPER helpful with keeping me on track with my day to day work habits. There’s an overall percentage at the top of the app that lets me know how I’m doing, and looking at that percentage everyday is enough to keep me focused. I find this particularly helpful because most of my work freelance, and I don’t have a direct supervisor all the time. I treat that percentage as my boss, and things get done.
Next August I look forward to looking over my year and being proud of the person I’m becoming and the work I’m creating. Until then, I’m putting my head down and getting it done, so Happy New Year folks!
About me . . .
I'm Cyrah Hill. I'm a woman of faith, an actor and an everyday black girl.