Hey Sp1nsters, welcome back.
I took nearly a year off and April, I let you in on a full on system failure. In October, I revealed that I had spent 224 days living in New York City’s DHS homeless shelter system. Two hundred and twenty-four days. Tomorrow marks the one year anniversary of day one of that unbelievable journey.
I shared this on Instagram and subsequently on my new YouTube channel, CEO to Homeless, where I chronicle what happened to me and the messy cascade and slide into homelessness.
It’s ugly. It’s not fun. It’s scary. And it is also the other side of what it means to be a single woman facing adversity, falling down and climbing back up and out.
So often, people would ask me, “Where are your friends? Where is your family?”
My family was always there. My friends were always there in the periphery, taking care of me, supporting me, loving me and making sure I was okay. Men, not so much. At every turn, men saw my vulnerability as an opportunity. We will need some time for that conversation. I did experience different levels of generosity, kindness and support throughout this, so I cannot paint everyone with the same brush. There were people who showed up for me and I am grateful for them. But I am here sharing this because homelessness is scary. It is pervasive. It is something people don’t talk about enough and it comes in many ways, shapes and forms. It looks different from what we imagine. Our prejudices sometimes don’t allow us to see it, even when it is right in front of us. I experienced homelessness, but I experienced it on a different level, in part because I am smart and I am pretty. And yes, that is worth discussing.
People did not necessarily see or understand that I was experiencing this struggle because I did not fit their idea of what homelessness looked like. I recognized that. I experienced it. My appearance and the way I carried myself affected how people perceived my circumstances. If people could not see it happening to me, it is possible they are not seeing it happening to the women around them.
We must also discuss the economy, unemployment and who is struggling to find work. Because my homelessness did not happen in a vacuum.
The economic crisis I am talking about is the one you experience when the cost of living keeps climbing and your opportunities keep shrinking. Inflation means the money you have does not go as far. Losing your job or being unable to acquire one means there may be no money coming in at all. You are still expected to pay rent, feed yourself and somehow keep everything together. There is a very specific group whose experience needs to be part of this conversation: Women, specifically Black women. Black women’s unemployment, our struggles to get hired and the economic despair that comes with being unable to support ourselves cannot be left out of the discussion about women’s independence.
I live at the intersection of race, gender and age, which comes with another level of complications. This contributed to my homelessness, I believe by design.
If you can stop women from taking care of themselves, you can stop their progress. You make them dependent on services designed and legislated by people, including men, who do not believe in women’s autonomy or independence.
We cannot keep telling women to be independent without addressing what happens when our access to employment, income and housing is obstructed. And we cannot have that conversation while leaving Black women out of it. The barriers women face are not accidental. I see design in systems that obstruct our ability to support ourselves and then make us dependent on services. If you can stop women from taking care of themselves, you can stop their progress. You make women dependent on services designed and legislated by men holding office, who do not believe in women’s autonomy or independence. Men who will rob women of their rights without data and on a whim. That might seem hyperbolic to some people. From where I stood, living through it, the connection was clear. There is legislation that affirms this hypothesis.
As I continue to navigate the world, this new world, this experience and everything that comes after it, I wanted to say to my single girls, my single ladies, my spinsters: hang in there.
You can do it.
And when it seems like things couldn’t possibly get worse, I am not going to insult you with a promise that they won’t. In my experience, they could and they did. I can also tell you that I survived it. You will survive what you are going through, too.
I am still here, sharing my experience and rebuilding my life.
I am chronicling my experience of homelessness on YouTube, TikTok, Instagram, Substack, here at The Spinster and at laurennapier.com. Just search #CEOtoHomeless wherever you go and you will find me.
And when you find me on YouTube, definitely like and subscribe.
