With my wife and daughter away, I’ve been home alone — living like I did back in my Brooklyn days. No one to answer to. Just freedom. And yet, in the quiet, something hit me: back then, I had all the freedom in the world… but the silence was loud. What I have now — love, connection, a full home — is what I was really craving all along.
Brooklyn was my stomping ground. Bed-Stuy to be exact. I moved around a lot, but that borough was home. I walked everywhere — to the train, the dog park, the bodega, or whichever house party or block gathering was jumping that weekend. When the walk was too far, I hopped on my folding bike and kept it pushing.
Even in my early 40s, I was moving like I was 28. I was fit, active, and full of energy. I looked and felt younger than my age. But deep down, I felt stagnant. Something was missing. Actually, a lot was missing. I was just trying to stay afloat. I had no family of my own. Yeah, I was “the man” in the town — but that title only took me so far.
I had freedom, sure. Unlimited freedom. But not much else. And I was okay with that — I had chosen that path. I left my job as an accountant to create space for something bigger. I was chasing purpose, not just a paycheck.
That path led me here: back in D.C., adulting like a motha. Married. A father. Two homes. I drive everywhere now. I do yard work. I go to Target (or used to, before the boycott) just to get a social fix. I’ve got a Costco card and I know how to use it. It’s a different rhythm — slower, more grounded — but it’s mine.
Still, I miss that Brooklyn pace. That constant motion. That built-in social life. It’s not second nature to me anymore, but I’m working to be intentional about keeping that part of me alive. I joined a gym. I take walks. I hit the trails on my bike. I make it a point to go to St. Lucia Carnival every year — three years strong and counting. Not just for the vibes, but to reconnect with the vibrant, social part of myself that thrived in Brooklyn.
I can’t let that part of me fade. It matters too much. Yes, it’s harder now. It’s more expensive. And no, my wife doesn’t always understand how important it is to me. But here’s the truth: in marriage, you have to compromise — but you can’t give up everything. You have to hold on to what fuels your spark, to what reminds you of who you are.
I love where I am in life. I’m blessed beyond measure. But true freedom — real happiness — is about being intentional. It’s about honoring all the parts of yourself, not just the ones that fit neatly into your current season.
So I’ll keep showing up. For my family. For my purpose. And for myself.
Calcie Cooper | Social Broker | Social Dad DC
SOCIAL DAD DC 