A woman recently called me a “nasty misery” because I spoke up when she threatened our business and our ability to make money. For a moment, I let her words get to me. I questioned myself, replayed the conversation and wondered whether that was really how I came across. Then I remembered something I should have learned a long time ago: nobody gets to define me, disturb my peace or take ownership of my joy.
At 60, I’m finally understanding that protecting your joy doesn’t mean avoiding every conflict. Sometimes it means speaking up when something matters. Sometimes it means defending your family, your livelihood and everything you’ve worked hard to build.

Sometimes it means refusing to let somebody else’s insult become your identity. Sounds simple, right? It isn’t always. My petty side did show up. I thought, Who would say something like that about me?
Then I thought, Probably a nasty, miserable person.
Listen, I’m still a work in progress, but once I got out of my feelings, I started thinking about why she said it in the first place. If Protecting What We Built Makes Me a ‘Nasty Misery,’ I’ll Take It!
The woman who called me a nasty misery was a white woman, what people today might jokingly call a “Karen,” and she was attacking our business and, ultimately, our ability to make money.
That’s different.
This wasn’t simply somebody hurting my feelings or a disagreement that got a little heated. This was our livelihood. Something we’ve worked hard to build. I simply asked for a service that we were entitled to get. Apparently, that made me a “nasty misery.” At first, I questioned myself. Am I nasty? Am I miserable? Is that really how I come across? Then I had to catch myself. Wait a minute. I wasn’t miserable. I wasn’t looking for an argument. I was protecting our business and our ability to earn a living. There’s a difference. Once I understood that, the words started losing their power.
If protecting what we’ve worked hard to build makes me a nasty misery, okay. If speaking up when someone threatens our ability to make money earns me that title, I’ll take it.
What I’m not going to do is allow somebody to attack our livelihood and then use a label to make me feel guilty for defending it.
The more I thought about the experience, the more it reminded me of another conversation I’ve been having lately about microaggressions and what that word actually means.
Microaggressions aren’t simply someone being rude. They can show up through subtle comments, assumptions and behaviors that communicate stereotypes or diminish someone because of who they are.
For Black women, there can sometimes be another layer when we advocate for ourselves. Be assertive and you’re angry. Ask questions and you’re difficult. Defend your business and you’re aggressive. Refuse to accept disrespect and somehow you’re the problem.
Apparently, I can now add “nasty misery” to the list.
Not every disagreement between a Black person and a white person is a microaggression. That’s important to say. But sometimes it’s worth asking why certain words are used, who gets labeled for speaking up and whether the same behavior would be described differently if someone else were doing it.
I know why I spoke up. I was protecting our business, our livelihood and what we’ve built; and yes, I would do it again.
I Ain’t Scared of You MF’s
Now let me tell you about Bernie Mac. If you know, you know. Bernie Mac walked onto the Def Comedy Jam stage and delivered the line that became legendary:
It was funny, fearless and unapologetically Bernie. Somehow, all these years later, it has become the Leggard family mantra. Not literally. We’re not walking around the house yelling it at people.
Well…not every day. But the meaning behind it? Absolutely.

For me, it means I’m not scared to speak up. I’m not scared to protect my family or what we’ve built. I’m not scared to say no. I’m not scared to walk away, and I’m learning not to be afraid of being misunderstood.
Most importantly, I’m no longer interested in making myself smaller just so somebody else can feel more comfortable.
Joy Can Exist Right Alongside Disappointment
This summer has reminded me of that. I’ve had some incredible moments. I’ve laughed, traveled, spent time with people I love, celebrated milestones and had experiences I will never forget. I’ve also experienced disappointment, challenges and sadness.
You probably have too. That’s life.
I think many of us spend years believing we’ll finally be happy when everything falls into place. When the kids are okay. When the money is right. When the business is thriving. When the relationship is good. When everybody around us is happy.
How’s that working out? Exactly.
If we wait for everything to be perfect before allowing ourselves to experience joy, we’re going to be waiting a very long time.
I’ve learned that joy and disappointment can sit at the same table. You can be worried about something and still laugh with your friends. You can be disappointed in someone and still wake up grateful. You can be going through some stuff and still dance when your song comes on. That isn’t pretending everything is okay. That’s living.
“Is This Worth Disturbing My Peace?”
This might be one of the biggest lessons I’m learning.
Everybody doesn’t deserve access to your energy.
Someone doesn’t like you? Okay.
Someone is talking about you? Let them talk.
Someone calls you a nasty misery?
Well, apparently you can own that too.
I used to feel like I had to explain myself. I wanted people to understand my intentions. I wanted to correct the story. I wanted to know what was being said about me and, if I’m really being truthful, probably who said it.
You know you’ve done it too.
Now I’m trying to ask myself one question before giving something my energy: Is this worth disturbing my peace?
More often than not, it isn’t, that doesn’t mean I won’t speak up when it matters. Protecting your peace doesn’t require you to become silent. There’s a difference between getting pulled into unnecessary drama and standing up for yourself, your family or your livelihood, at 60, I’m finally learning the difference.
“I’m Not Saving Joy for Later”
Turning 60 has made me think differently about time.
There’s more life behind me than there was when I was 30 or 40. I don’t say that with sadness. If anything, it makes the time in front of me feel more valuable.
I want to laugh loudly, travel, dance and have those long dinners with family and friends where everybody talks too much and nobody realizes how late it has gotten. I want to write stories that matter, meet interesting people and keep discovering who I am in this chapter of my life.
I want to live while I’m living, and maybe that’s what I’m really trying to say to you.
Don’t wait for your life to become perfect before you enjoy it. Don’t allow someone else’s opinion of you to become your opinion of yourself. Don’t spend three days replaying a three-minute conversation in your head. Don’t give somebody who doesn’t even like you that much control over your happiness.
Yes, somebody called me a nasty misery. For a minute, she hurt my feelings. Then I remembered who I am.
I’m a woman who loves hard, laughs hard and protects what matters to me. I speak up when something doesn’t feel right. Sometimes I get it right and sometimes I don’t. I’m still learning, still growing and still figuring out how to protect my peace without losing the parts of myself that make me me.
But one thing I know for sure:
I’m not handing my joy over to anybody else.
People are going to talk. They’re going to judge. Sometimes they’ll misunderstand you, and every now and then somebody might even come up with a colorful new name for you.
Let them. Just don’t give them your joy too. That belongs to you.
So, yes, I think I’ll keep “nasty misery.” I’m starting to like her. She speaks up when she needs to, protects what she’s built and then gets right back to enjoying her life; and when she needs a little extra courage, she has the Leggard family mantra, courtesy of the late, great Bernie Mac: “I ain’t scared of you MF’s.” Neither am I.
Life is too precious and time is moving too fast. Love your people. Protect what you’ve built. Laugh whenever you can. Dance when your song comes on. Whatever you do, don’t let anybody steal your damn joy. As always, Real Talk, for Real People.





























