Allow Me To Reintroduce Myself…

It’s been almost four years since my last blog entry—and for transparency sake: I’ll admit that I’ve had this entry sitting in my drafts for two of those years.

If I’m being honest, I wasn’t sure I had much more to say. I wasn’t sure if what I tried to create within this space and instill was necessary anymore.
Everyone has a podcast.
Everyone has a substack.
And everyone is some kind of content creator trying to sell something.

I got discouraged.

And it just felt better to avoid this space and focus more on the life happening in front of me than to face the possibility of failing.

But over the last few months, I’ve learned that not only is this space still very necessary as an outlet for me, but a space of community, a space of sharing—of transparency, of difference, of sameness, of testimony, and of growth—still very necessary.

So, scared and all, terrified and a little anxious…

Let’s begin—again.

Over these past few years, so much life has happened. Let me catch you up a bit…

My husband and I are now homeowners (there’s a whole miracle there, but that’s a story for a different day). My newborn is now a full-grown toddler who runs my life—and she’s a big sister (we’ll also save that story for another day). My friendship circles definitely look a lot different now. After becoming somebody’s wife and two other somebodies’ mama, my needs, my wants, and negotiables when it came to people, places and things changed—and they had to if I was going to steward my assignments as a wife and a mama well.

Then, there’s me.

For most of the past three-plus years since we last shared this space together, I was the same girl you knew—same late 20-something trying to figure it out with you, same 20-something falling into faith, same 20-something hoping she was getting it right but still oftentimes getting it wrong, same 20-something trying to find herself and establish her little square in the world.

But smack dab in the middle of the 1,406 days that have passed between us, a new decade emerged for me. And with that new decade came new opportunities, new adventures, new lessons, and new fears—even.

In 2023, I turned 30. I was excited about 30—30, flirty and thriving! (Y’all remember that saying from that Jennifer Garner movie?)

I was 30 alright—but far from flirty and far from feeling like I personally was thriving.

We’ll skip the flirty part for obvious reasons—the obvious being I’m only flirty with my husband these days and we’re good with that over here!

So, let’s talk about the thriving part…

Professionally, I’ve always found myself doing exceptionally well. I had great parents who instilled in me an indelible work ethic that is evident wherever I am. After graduating from one of the top journalism grad programs in the country, I landed a job at the best small market news station. It was there that I won my first Emmy and a handful of other awards and nominations. I worked on some really incredible projects—covered my first music festival as a member of “the press,” which was a huge goal for me back then. I also launched a really dope morning show that I had so much fun working on despite the ridiculous call time. And then a few months after my contract ended there, I landed a job working for an O&O of the network I first interned for—making a huge market jump. Less than six months on the job, I was promoted to a management position—even while pregnant! I remember asking my bosses at the time, “Are you sure you want to do this right now? Y’all know I’m about to leave in 90-days to give birth to this child.” And they excitedly said yes.

Fast forward to now, I’m in a management role that has allotted me with influence and opportunities that I didn’t think would be possible this early on in my career. When it comes to this news producing thing, I’m that girl! I gets it done and I do it well, you hear me? And I have always taken pride in that. Professionally, I was—and still am—definitely thriving.

But about seven months after my 30th birthday, my professionally thriving self collided with my real self…and I would find that I wasn’t exactly thriving in a healthy way.

At the top of 2024, another job opportunity was presented to me—and it would’ve set my family up in an even better space financially. But the timing was way off and how it was going to go down was not something that I was in agreement with. I remember coming home the night I was informed about the opportunity, telling my husband about it, and literally sobbing to him in sorrow. While, yes, this would have been great for my career and the money would’ve been nice, it didn’t sit well with me; I didn’t have peace. So we prayed about it—we prayed for all of the parties involved and that GOD would allow the best decision to be made. Weeks go by, and it looks like this opportunity is definitely going to happen. I start freaking out because internally I feel like my integrity is going to be compromised if this actually goes through—despite me being assured that everything is fine. I keep praying and praying and praying—and pleading. Then, in the eleventh hour—and when I say that, I literally mean two hours before things were about to be finalized—I was basically told sike nah, you were right; timing is off! Never mind!

I was relieved…and then I wasn’t.

Wait, Nic, what do you mean then you weren’t; isn’t this what you wanted?

Friend! There you are—it was getting real quiet in here; I was wondering when you were going to start asking those questions like you used to!

What I mean is while I was relieved that this opportunity didn’t happen in this way, I was still disappointed that it didn’t happen for me. What I didn’t want to admit out loud was that there was a part of me that really wanted it. Sure, I wanted the money, but I also wanted the opportunity. I wanted that job—I wanted the influence that came with it, the access, and the ability to say that I was in that space and in that role all before I was 35.

I wanted it.

And it took me a really long time to finally admit that not only was I disappointed that I didn’t get it, but that I was disappointed in GOD for actually hearing my prayer—and answering it with an answer that I maybe didn’t like.

Girl, not you being mad at GOD for giving you the answer you asked for!

I know, right?! It sounds crazy!

But about two months later, on our way to church, my husband randomly asked me where my head was at, and I finally admitted to him that while I had been pretending to be okay with everything, I wasn’t—and low key (really high key) I was disappointed with GOD. I was disappointed that He didn’t let me know ahead of time not to get secretly excited about this. He could’ve saved me the trouble—saved me the heartache and disappointment.

Little did I know, GOD would use this admission of disappointment as the catalyst for one of the most important seasons of my life.

How so?

Well, after admitting all of this to my husband, Neil challenged me to take what I was feeling to GOD and actually unpack it with Him in prayer. So I did—and I thought after unpacking my heartbreak and disappointment that I would just leave my emotions there, and that I would just move on. But that’s far from what happened. Instead, GOD challenged me to stay a little while. He challenged me to dig even deeper into my dismay—and to my surprise He revealed something that had been a great mystery to me. WHO AM I?

Who are you? You’re Nic—you know the wife, the mama, the writer, the Emmy-Award winning news producer…

Yeah, yeah—I know all of that…but, WHO am I really?

I just told you—

No, no, friend—you just told me attributes that I’m known for that have for a long time become my identity, but they were never intended to be.

So, you’re not…

Let me explain.

Being a wife, a mama, a writer, and an Emmy-Award winning news producer are my most favorite things to be. But they are just my attributes—my assignments. They are not WHO I am.

I think because I have tried to steward my assignments well—while not perfectly, and for the most part it is perceived that I do them well, my assignments have easily become my identity. It is perceived that I am a good wife. It is perceived that I am a good mama. It is perceived that I am a good writer. It is perceived that I am a good news producer. And I believe that I am good at encompassing my space in those roles—or at least I try to, but those roles were never meant to be all of who I am—let alone define who I am.

For a long time, if you asked me to introduce myself, I would say, “Hey, I’m Nicole Webb; I’m a news producer for [said news network] or [said affiliate station].” I took pride in that. I took pride in what I did. I loved being known as the girl that works in TV. You know how awesome that is—and rare that still is for Black Women and in the space that I do it in?

But that was a part of the issue—I loved it so much that it became who I was and not just what I did.

I’ve been in my career for more than a decade—and have invested about that same amount of time to make sure I was prepared when I entered the industry that I work in. From volunteering with my childhood church’s production department, majoring in journalism and media production in college, to spending thousands of dollars to attend grad school to make sure that I gained an even broader and more rigid training experience, my career was woven into the woman I had become.

And now after all that time, I was poised with the question, WHO ARE YOU?

So, who are you?

After all this time, I know now.

But the truth is when I was first asked this question in the midst of disappointment back in 2024, I didn’t really know. I needed to be brought to a place of being disappointed—and being disappointed repeatedly since then—in order for GOD to bring me to that revelation. And because He is a loving Father, GOD didn’t leave me there in my disappointment and quandary. Instead, He endearingly asked me to do something about it—to allow Him to strip me of a falsified identity and allow Him to show me who He says that I am, and who He’s called me to be.

I’ll save you the cliffhanger: I opted in for what He was asking me to do, but it was HARD. It was probably the hardest process and hardest season of my life so far. But the decision to be made over again by GOD—to start over again, to begin again—was the best decision, second to accepting Jesus, that I made for myself independent of anyone else.

If you’ll allow me, as you and I begin again and journey forward, I’d like to reintroduce myself to you and share with you the testimony of what GOD did in my life and in me. It’s not going to quite fit into one blog entry, so that means you can expect a whole lot more of me here—sharing more of this incredibly beautiful, sorrowful, rewarding, hard, and victorious testimony through more entries and consistently. I can promise you what I always have—transparency and candidness. I am also promising this time around to hold myself to a higher standard of accountability when it comes to stewarding this space and this community we are now rebuilding together.

I hope you’ll join me again…as we begin again.

As always, praying GOD’s love & light your way.
xo, Nic.