Three years and still Bolder Joce

Reading time: 3 minutes

For a long time, I resisted writing. 

I didn’t think I belonged.

As a kid, I wrote a lot. At nine, I declared writing my favorite subject.

I’d often write about koalas and the freedom fighters. The Little Rock Nine inspired me. I wrote about being different, like growing up not celebrating birthdays (not even my own).

In the third and fourth grade it was the chance at winning “the most words” contest. Some of the class even wrote itty bitty and double lined their stories all to earn gummy worms. We traded words for worms. I can’t make this up.

One of my third grade free writes. (February 1997)

Before freshman year of high school, I tested into tenth grade English. I excelled. It mattered that teachers cared about prolific writers like August Wilson, Zora Neale Hurston, and Toni Morrison.

Writing hits different when you literally come from ancestors state sanctioned and killed for putting pen to paper. 

For me, it’s soul filling. An endowment as the good ancestor I intend to be.

My senior year, I was awarded a scholarship to the University of Minnesota’s school of journalism. Bonus, a guaranteed internship with a statewide newspaper. A full ride.

Long story short, I said no.

At St. Thomas, I started on a journalism track. Three courses in, my professor told me my writing was terrible. Over office hours, I met to get clarity on the red inked expletive that he left on one of my papers. He stood his ground. Said I’d be better off in another profession.

I walked away.

I’ve had a lot of chapter ones in my life spanning homes, jobs, and relationships. I made the lifelong choice to try, fail, and reimagine again and again.

I never want to be afraid of starting over or learning something new.

Me modeling for one of Empire’s educational books during my cosmetology days. (circa 2013)

Bolder Joce birthed with fierce inspiration from “You Gotta be” by Des’ree. I grew up with the song. It was and remains my better inner voice. 

It motivates me to keep evolving. It reminds me to be confident, take risks, and choose growth.

“Listen as your day unfolds
Challenge what the future holds
Try and keep your head up to the sky
Lovers, they may cause you tears
Go ahead, release your fears
Stand up and be counted
Don’t be ashamed to cry

You gotta be
You gotta be bad,
you gotta be bold,
you gotta be wiser
You gotta be hard,
you gotta be tough,
you gotta be stronger
You gotta be cool,
you gotta be calm,
you gotta stay together
All I know, all I know,
love will save the day”

— Des'ree, You Gotta Be

Posing with one of the greats, Whitney Houston. (January 2025)

I’m three-years-old trying a new thing — writing out loud. My blog is a public gaze into my beautifully complex mind. It’s a reminder of the little girl who loved to write and shared what was on her mind.

I follow my intuition more. I’m more vulnerable. I trust my gut more and more.

I keep rising. I let my mind matter. 

I’m resonating and connecting with people. I’m on a spiritual quest. I’m unraveling and being rewoven. I embrace contradictions, but most of all I embrace being moved by love. 

My creed is to be bolder. Bolder Joce is bolder love.

Happy Year 3!