Unplugging From The Matrix….

I have used this blog to vent my frustrations, promote my books/podcast, and connect with so many different people from everywhere. It is a place where I have grown as a writer, and it makes me smile to see how far I have come when I click on old archives. It is also a place where I have felt comfortable being able to talk about issues currently facing well, me.

This is that time.

December 2016 I graduated with my Master’s degree. I was a happy, if naive twenty-six year old black woman who was determined to have a career in the workplace. Something I’d always dreamed of ever since I became entertainment editor of my high school newspaper. That January, I was ready. I prepped for interviews, applied to wherever a company would take a shiny-new master of science in human resource management degree holder. It took a few weeks, but I was able to get a once in a lifetime interview with the San Francisco International Airport. It was an eye-opening experience to be sure. I was selected for the prestigious position of San Francisco Airport Fellow and I thought it was the best thing in the world.

Finally, I would be joining hundred’s of others in the mad dash to and from work. I dressed smartly, even lost substantial weight which gave me the confidence I felt I would need to succeed. I had no clue what I was doing, but I figured, “Hey. school taught me that I can learn anything with studying, hard work, and dedication. So anything is possible, right?”


That mindset was true in some aspects.

In others it wasn’t.

It was a year program, that not only exposed you to the aviation industry, but helped train you for a position at the airport. Everyday for one year I told myself if I could just get to the end of the program I would be okay. I could make it. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about money as much, and I would be happy. In all my favorite films, it’s what happened anyway. The lead protagonist would work hard, handle the fire-breathing dragon lady (The Devil Wears Prada) and at the end get the job he/she truly wanted.

Only that wasn’t the case.

I had a helpful advisor which was good, but the bad definitely outweighed the benefits in my situation.

The subtle micro-aggressions were terrible. Finding out that people were talking behind my back was like getting a slap to the face, but what hurt more than anything, was being made to feel as if I were stupid. These people spoke as if I was too illiterate to properly comprehend what they were training me to do.

Because of it my mental health suffered.

The program started for me in March, and I made it to the one year mark, quitting a couple of months afterward. I never thought one could feel PTSD from a job, but this was my first real taste of, “The real world.” My father, being a former supervisor for a very well-known company drove me almost daily to work. He saw my moods change the closer we got to my job and he would always offer a smile and say, “If you can’t do it anymore, then don’t,” before focusing back on the road. I always felt that he could look into my soul and see how much I didn’t want to be there.

But I still went.

Being the ever optimistic person I was I consoled myself with the knowledge that one day, I would finally get what I worked so hard for.

That day never came.

Circumstances arose in which I quit. I came home early, and I remember feeling so defeated. I sat outside of my parent’s driveway a lot, and sometimes found myself staring at the ground, the mountains, and in some cases nothing. I would think of something terrible at work and have sudden bursts of anger which was directed at my parents. They didn’t deserve my outrage, yet they took it in stride, always consoling me when I came down from one of my many episodes. Even my little sister who came down from college saw the hopeless despair I was wrapped up in and took pity on me.

I quit in 2018 and for several months afterward I stayed out of the workforce. I began to write feverishly, and it was the one thing that brought me immense joy.( Well that along with foreign soap-operas.) Through that pain I was able to create something beautiful. My very first historical romance book that I published myself on Amazon. I figured out how to create my website, and I was even able to pay for a PR company to promote it. I felt so proud of that I was able to do that, and it felt like a big screw you to anyone who thought I was incapable of accomplishing something huge. It was my passion, it had always been, but it took me facing what I thought I wanted to realize what I actually needed.

A couple of months later I figured it would be a good time to earn some money so I began a tentative job search. Much more aware I went in with the single-focus of working for money. I wasn’t looking for job-security or comfort. I wasn’t looking for friends, or a place to advance my career. I wasn’t affiliated with any organizations or sororities so I knew that I wouldn’t be making any advancements based on connections. I was just a normal twenty-eight woman looking for income to make her car payment.

Still, I found nothing.

I applied to so many places yet they all turned me down. Gave me no specific reasons, other than they moved forward with other people. I was baffled at the response and even told some managers to please check my credentials and reconsider, but the answer stayed the same.

A big resounding NO.

I do remember that I applied to a job near my neighborhood during that transition period. It was a management position, entry level at a clothing store. The interview went surprisingly well, and I thought it was a great way to get my foot in the door of management. But, I showed up the next day not for management work, but for a regular sales associate position.

Now I want to be clear; there is nothing wrong with a cashier position, but my job history and resume alone would make me over-qualified for that particular position. I worked at that store for one day and never came back. I thought I would cry my eyes out, but I found myself feeling the opposite. Instead of tears I became upset, and slightly bitter. I worked so hard only to be given a position of putting clothes on a rack. Six years of school just down the drain in my opinion.

Since 2018 I have steadily looked for work in between writing, but no one ever thought to hire me.

Then the pandemic happened.

Citizens were worried about money and work, but I found that year to be a relaxing one. I had been through so much, and now the world was on pause, forcing people (including myself) to re-examine their lives.

I found myself writing more.

I published three more books, and I spent more time with my family. I finally realized what was important, and that was worth millions to me. I still held out hope that someone would hire me. After all, everything had switched to remote so I was in the same boat as everyone else, right?


There was a brief bout of hope on the horizon, though.

In July 2021 a company reached out to me. It was a start-up and the goal was to help students with college preparatory. I was excited because after I was hired I was given the position of online English Instructor. I was thrilled. To have the chance to finally be in the education field had been my dream. The former supervisor explained to me that they were waiting for students and for the school year to start, so she urged me to be patient. I had been waiting for years, so I didn’t mind waiting several more weeks.

But the waiting turned into months.

Which turned into the former supervisor quitting and me finding out about it two weeks ago (Yep seven months!) after inquiring myself.

I found that job on LinkedIn and figured while waiting for the education company to start I would look for something else. I completed the entire profile, the app called me an all-star profile and I was starting to get views. The website even matched me to other jobs that I qualified for.

Except I got no call-back.

After several months I started to see that no one was calling me back. The news on the television wasn’t matching my own efforts of looking for work, because I did want employment yet no one would give me a second glance.

I am no one special. I am just a thirty-one year-old educated Black woman. However, I started to do research and was finding out that a lot of other black men and women (millennials) were facing similar situations such as myself. I didn’t want to be one of the people who kept allowing this to happen only to break me. I even saw stories where other women went insane with the constant back and forth from companies only to be let down and unable to properly function.

So, I decided to become self-employed.

I created a more professional website for books. I have always loved poetry and I am so proud of my podcast Expressions and Definitions finally getting the attention it deserves. And I am proud to be making certain financial moves with my family which makes me thank God for giving me the family that I have. It’s not at all what I thought I’d be doing, but I find myself loving writing and create fun and new podcast.

I came up here today to say that I quit.

I finally quit believing in the hype of corporate America. I quit believing that my, “dream job,” is at some company from nine to five. One should not dream of work, but of a passion that they can turn into profit, or a way to live comfortably.

I deleted any app that would be linked with a job.

I deleted my LinkedIn post.

I deleted my online portfolio and gave away my professional clothes.

This year in 2022, I will do what makes me happy and not what society tells me. I will not be forced to work in subpar conditions that affect my mental state and I will not be spoken to in a way that deems me less than human. Because I am human, and I deserve respect.

I don’t know if this helps anyone, but if you have gotten this far and are reading this, I want you to know that you are not alone. You are special, kind and you are loved. You are smart, and you can do anything you put your mind too. You are not being too difficult for demanding what you deserve because baby, you are so worth it.

I love you all so much and we will talk soon.



You left me for a while.

But you came back.

I have no slack.

I can’t believe what you’ve made me feel.

What I’ve written,

What you’ve made me do.

My heart was broken.

I want you in too many ways.

I can’t say no though.

It’s not good for me.

This is a drug.

But I have to take another hit.

Just once more.

Then I promise I’ll go.

Promets juste que tu-

*Excerpt from my poetry book Love, Undefined By Nicole Renee. You can purchase it here.

The Unseen

I wonder,

If you ever think be-yonder.

I stand in front of this mirror,

Unsure of this face in front of me.

I think I’ve lost the sight.

Something’s not right.

M’aimeras-tu si tu voyais le vrai moi ?

Just a question,

Or if you’re afraid, it could be a suggestion.


The Inner Thoughts

I don’t think anyone really knows me.

I put on so many different faces, Sometimes I can’t even tell that it’s me.

I wish someone would give me a momentary peace.

I have so many thoughts,

Some troubling you see.

Are we just pretending?

Fitting in a world that seems never-ending?

Should I rip off the mask and let everyone see.

The true me?

Do I even know her?

Or was she crafted from months of taking on another persona?


A Styleless Style

I was confused as to what it means to write poetry.

Schools used to tell me what the definition meant,

I tried to follow their guidelines, but it wasn’t for me.

I just had to be.

I was hesitant to write about what I really see,

things concerned with strife.

I thought I had a handle on what it means to write poetry.

To always be introspective, and allow the audience to see the deepness in you.

The raw, the honest, may come off as too brutal,

Too much.

Until Friday.

Until yesterday.

Until today.

I went to my local library and immersed myself in the works of Solmaz Sharif,

Jenny Xie, and Carmen Gimenez Smith. I smiled when my hands ghosted across Maya Angelou, and sighed when I saw the well-loved and worn books of Lord Byron.

Each style was unique.

It was uniform in the fact that it had no uniform.

I loved being squeezed between the old bookshelves.

They were free of scorn.


Make Love, Not War

You know, I’ve been hesitant to speak on anything related to the vaccine. Most of my friends know that I am not taking the vaccine. I have done extensive research (on both sides) and have come to the conclusion that it is not for me.

I am a thirty-one-year-old black woman who is capable of making my own decisions. My choice is not in any way influenced by my parents or family because I know family members (on my mom and dad’s side) who have gotten the shot and they are fine, still living their everyday lives.

The only reason I am even writing this is because I am absolutely appalled at the lack of tolerance and childlike pettiness I have seen from vaccinated individuals. I can’t speak for others but I am healthy. And I’m blessed because my father, mother as sister are as well.

I have always taken care of my body (pre-covid pandemic era) because being from San Francisco Bay Area (most millennial kids who had hippie parents will understand lol) you learn early on about healthy homeopathic ways to treat the body. Ever since I was a little girl my mother has always taken the natural way to treat my sister and I so what I am doing is nothing new to anyone who really knows me.

God has also blessed me with a career as a full-time educator and writer online that does not require me to be in-person and vaccinated so I understand those who took the vaccine for their own careers.

But back to the vax vs. the unvax.

In school, all I heard growing up was how it was important to respect others and their decisions.
In California especially I used to see Coexist and practice peace and tolerance all through the state.

If you choose to not get the vaccine you will not get any hate from me. But if you do get the vaccine you will not receive any hate from me. You did what was best for you and your life.
I don’t wish ill on any sides.

I am not writing this post to try and convince you to not get the shot. As a capable, educated adult (which most of my friends are on all my social media accounts 😊) you made the decision that was best for you based on the information that you compiled.

This is a safe space here. And I want both sides to know that you have a friend in me.
I love you all,


And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. -Philippians 4:6-7 KJV

The Great Fall

Once it was a beacon of light,

This shining hill dressed as a white knight.

Now it only brings hate,

Laying prone on the ground, and heavy as a freight.

I find myself mystified,

maybe naive, and wide-eyed as a victorian bride.

How far did we backslide?

When did I lose my greatest ally?

The contradictions are clear,

yet we still clamor and believe all because of fear.

I stand here,

Waiting, helpless, praying that you’ll appear.

Isn’t that right dear?

Won’t you loan me a few of your tears?

You see I’ve ran out,

When humanity chose the coward’s way and took the bailout.

There are no rebels here.

They lament, yet still adhere.

It’s troubling to see this clear!

Maybe it’s too soon,

Maybe it’s too late,

But soon you’ll see the weight,

compliances that morphed into mandates.


Réalisation D’une Femme

You made it.

You reached that point in your life,

Where you’re done with the worry and strife.

You wished things stayed the same,

Not realizing that it was nothing but a game.

Gone are the days of blasting music from a busted car,

even though you remember those warm crazy nights from afar.

You did things that you now laugh about.

You danced until your feet throbbed.

You fell in love until you sobbed.

You made mistakes,

Which often ended in backaches.

Mais tu as grandi.

You’re no longer that bright-eyed pup.

Breathe in the fresh air,

Ignore the dare,

And take care.

Laugh at the ones before you,

Sit down and watch them stew,

While you catch a breath and take a brew.

Welcome to womanhood.



Donner et Prendre…

I looked up,

And you were there.

I tried to speak,

But you shook your head.

I stepped back.

You walked forward.

“I went too far,” you said.

“I took too much,” you pled.

“I should’ve tried,” you shouted.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to fight.

Anything but feel this.

This burning in my chest.

This racing heart.

“I lost myself along the way with you,” I spoke quietly.

I walked forward.

You stepped back.

You tried to speak,

But I shook my head.

“No. It’s my turn to speak.”


It’s Been Awhile…

Good Morning/Night/Day world!

So, based on the title, you should know already what I’ll be talking about.

Time. Well more specifically, my time away from you all.

Yep, that’s right. Your girl here has been absent from the blog game. Not purposefully, but still absent.

I blame it on Fanfiction.

But, at least I come with good news, right? Well, here it is. I have officially finished my first book! Gah! It’s a historical romance novel, but I am so happy with it. After years of secretly pulling out my paperback in high school, (and college) I have finally done the unthinkable: Finished a story!

Let me explain.

You see, I’ve always had this story brewing in the back of my mind, but I was afraid to put pen to paper-or fingers to a laptop, you know how it is- fearing the worst. But not anymore. I recently turned twenty-nine years old, and since then, I felt it was time. Time to change my life. No more excuses, no more putting anything off. It has always been a goal of mine to do this, and now that I can? I am so thrilled.

But, there is a lot that goes into self-publishing.

You have to find a book cover artist for both the paperback and e-book. A reputable editor, copyright your work and find a PR company that will give your book enough buzz to be seen. You have to also make sure your book is properly formatted, and if you cannot do that for Amazon, iBooks, and Barnes and Noble. If you can’t do the formatting, I suggest you hire someone as well-like I did.

It’s all rewarding though.

To see my book on a website with countless other writers is an honor to me. That is payment enough. You won’t believe what gave me the courage to actually do it. I’ll give you a hint, I mentioned the reason recent bout of MIA-ness earlier. Still didn’t pick up on it? That’s quite alright. I’ll tell you anyway.

It was Fanfiction.

Back in 2013, I started reading it. I heard about it, and let’s be frank, after reading the Fifty Shades of Grey Trilogy I became intrigued. The more I read, and left reviews, I started to form an e-community of readers, and surprisingly writers. It stunned me.

But in a good way.

Then I started writing it as well. (I will not leave you my FF name because, well, I’m not that bold yet-LOL) It was so much fun. You had characters from your favorite shows that you could shape and mold to do with as you chose. But the plots were entirely my own. The more I began to write, however, the more I became jealous of the already assembled characters. Why couldn’t I come up with unforgettable characters? I asked myself.

So I did. And I have no regrets whatsoever. Writing on the FF site also gave me the courage to be more open with my work. Here, I was glad to post my poetry, but never my fiction. That, however, is changing.

Starting now.

As of tonight, at 2:58 a.m. in California, I will be posting MY story ideas, along with poems, and thoughts. I hope you all enjoy this other facet of me. Truth is, it was always here, but like in Split, I was often afraid to let that part of myself come to the light. (I know I just compared myself to a schizophrenic man who had 23 personalities living inside of him but just go with it)

Anyways, I love you all, and I hope that you will enjoy some excerpts from my book, my poems, and thoughts, that I will post here more frequently.

I love you all,

Nicole Renee.