The Podcast That Refused to Stay Buried
Y'all know how I get. This is where I finally let it all out.
There's a specific kind of quiet that only settles in after 2a in a New York City apartment. It's the kind where the city's hum finally softens into a low thrum, and if you listen closely enough, you can almost hear the thoughts you've been pushing aside all day finally make their entrance. For me, these thoughts have always been like insistent little whispers, nudging at the edges of my curiosity, pulling me down rabbit holes. For years, I told those whispers, "Not now. Later."
In 2019, those whispers got too loud to ignore.
I remember the hum of the air conditioning in the coworking space I owned, that familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the faint metallic tang of old building pipes. It was there, nestled amongst buzzing entrepreneurs and freelancers, that I first hit record in the real studio I'd built, with professional recording equipment.
When I do something, I go all in, and this podcast was no exception. I brought in my friends as guests, armed with questions about everything from "Do I have imposter syndrome?" to "How are the people in relationships doing, really?" I went deep on the sound design, adding subtle footsteps, the clink of ice in a glass, trying to create a world for these conversations. Looking back, those episodes were good, well-produced even, but maybe a little too exposed in terms of personal revelation. It was fascinating to hear how my friends saw me, but I also laid a lot of my life out there. A lot has changed since then. I’ve have changed since then.
As time moved forward, life began to reorient itself, subtly at first, then with increasing force. My own business, which had given me the flexibility to pursue this passion, began to demand more and more of me. The pandemic arrived, an uninvited guest that stayed far too long, and sadly, it meant I had to close the co-working space that had been my creative sanctuary. This prompted a move out of Atlanta, where I had been. Suddenly, the idea of sitting down with a microphone felt like a luxury I couldn't afford, an indulgence when the world was in upheaval.
Then came the divorce. A seismic shift that rearranged the very foundations of my life. It was during this period, sorting through boxes, that I found the dusty, old passport from my early twenties, filled with stamps from quick, almost accidental trips I'd barely remembered taking, before life felt so deliberately structured. I remember holding it, feeling its surprisingly light weight, and realizing how much I’d changed. How much I'd been living for other people's expectations, and how much I wanted to rediscover what I truly desired.
All of this prompted me to make the decision to move to Miami for my own unintentional "Eat, Pray, Love" experience. For a year and a half, I lived in hotels and Airbnbs as my life dramatically changed, allowing myself to prioritize peace over productivity for the first time in my adult life.
Afterwards, I did an extreme pivot and moved to NYC, a city I’d always dreamed of, a place that felt like a fresh start wrapped in a shimmering, impossible promise. I took a job working for someone else for the first time in a long time. For three exhilarating years, my "hobby" wasn't a podcast; it was living. It was learning how to be an adult on my own terms, navigating a new career, and diving headfirst into a dating scene I'd completely missed in my twenties. I closed my work laptop at 6p sharp, if not earlier, and just lived. There were late nights, new friendships, endless brunches, going to the club, and discovering the sheer joy of doing things just for the fun of it, with absolutely no thought of monetization or career advancement. It was a glorious, vibrant, and deeply necessary era of simply existing and experiencing, and yes, even partying hard.
And then, slowly, something began to shift. The intense, exhilarating pace of that era began to soften. I found myself settled in New York, happy, content, and creatively recharged. My career felt fulfilling, stable. The constant hum of curiosity, the one that used to keep me up in that coworking space, started to return, louder than ever. I started reading voraciously again, making notes, connecting seemingly disparate ideas, and finding myself spiraling into familiar rabbit holes. And that's when I knew: it was time to dust off the microphone. This time, not out of a desperate need for answers, but out of pure, unadulterated curiosity and a desire to share.
So, here we are. Candice Talks About Everything is finally here. This is me, inviting you into the conversations, the questions, and the cultural deep dives that genuinely fascinate me. I've already started recording, and I can tell you, it feels good to be back. I have got episodes on:
Miscommunication: How pride, silence, and unsaid things have ruined everything from empires to almost-situationships, exploring tragic historical events and personal relationship dynamics.
Why My Auntie Hates Beyoncé: A deep dive into the cultural nuances, generational differences, and unspoken expectations that shape how Black women, particularly older ones, perceive figures like Beyoncé, exploring themes of modesty versus unapologetic self-expression.
The Privilege of Pushing Back: Exploring why some people advocate for themselves against systemic failures, even without being taught how, while others walk away, examining the "hustle tax" and the generational fear of falling back into poverty.
I'm also bringing back some of the original ideas, reimagined through new eyes: "Do I Have Imposter Syndrome?" and "How Are The People In Relationships Doing?" will make their return. I plan to talk about the books that have lived rent-free in my head, the ideas that won't let me go, and the strange, wonderful corners of culture that demand a deeper look.
This podcast is, finally, for me. It's my creative outlet, my space to explore, and my way of feeding the part of my soul that thrives on inquiry. But it's also for you, my Substack community, who have been with me through so many chapters. I hope you'll join me on this journey. Listen. Share it with your equally curious friends. And please, tell me what's been living rent-free in your head.
The trailer is out now on IG and Tiktok, and the first episode drops soon. Let's see where this winding road takes us.
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