The Summer of 35

One of the most precious gifts you can give yourself in your building season is to embrace the process —fully, unapologetically, and with an open heart. No matter what your mind or body tells you—whether it’s exhaustion, doubt, or excitement—allowing yourself to feel it all is an act of liberation. The pain, the joy, the uncertainty, the little wins—each of these moments shapes you, refines you, and strengthens your foundation. There is no shortcut to greatness. There is no skipping the necessary discomfort that comes with growth. But there is a way to move through it with grace —by accepting that the journey is meant to have ebbs and flows. So, instead of resisting the process, lean into it. Celebrate the milestones, big and small. Rest when needed. Push when required. But most importantly, trust that every step is leading you exactly where you need to be. Because when you finally arrive at your destination, it won’t just be about the outcome—it will be about the transform...

Hello, my loves! This week has been a revelation of sorts. As much as I dream of being a worldwide content creator , traveling to different places, speaking to women from all walks of life, and inspiring them to chase their dreams —I’ve come to a realization. My content, as much as it carries passion, sometimes feels vague and not entirely relatable. And that’s something I need to bridge. How do I share my story in a way that uplifts and transforms without compromising my privacy? How do I remain open and vulnerable enough to make an impact while still protecting the sacred parts of my journey? I’m learning that finding this balance is crucial. I love sharing. I love helping. But I also love my peace. And I don’t believe I have to sacrifice one for the other. So, I’m committing to figuring out how much I can give, how much I should hold back, and what truly serves both my audience and myself . Life is too short to play it small. I refuse to live on the outskirts of my own world...

  This year is serious for me. This is a fight to the finish. Becoming that bitch is not an option, an opinion, or a possibility—it’s the only thing that separates the winners from the losers. And let’s be clear—I’m not talking about that harassing, unbecoming, irritating, ill-mannered stereotype some people assume. No. That bitch is the woman of your dreams. The version of yourself you know you were meant to be. The woman that every single challenge tried—and failed —to break. The one who refuses to dim her light, the one who stands unshaken, undefeated, and undeniable. I see so much of who I’m meant to be in these blogs. Writing has always been a part of me. Poetry, storytelling, expression—this is home. But so is community. I love bringing people together— talking, sharing, building, problem-solving. I love food. Cooking it, serving it, and even cleaning up afterward. This is love in motion. This is how I show up for the people I care about. This is my love languag...

Tired, But Hopeful Something about this week felt exhausting yet hopeful. I took time to reflect and release , to sit with my thoughts instead of running from them. I realized I’ve been moving at full speed for so long that I never stopped to just be —to relax, enjoy life, and breathe. I don’t want to be the person whose only accomplishment is work and a stacked bank account. That gets lonely real fast. Beyond Hustle: Cultivating a Full Life Success should never come at the cost of true friendships, love, and the richness of life itself. My 20s were a careful balancing act— work, school, friendships, and dreams. I prioritized goals, achievements, and leveling up. But now, in my 30s , the work I put in sometimes feels obsolete, small, meaningless. But that’s a lie. The work I did—and continue to do—is necessary, valuable, and deeply meaningful. Growth doesn’t always scream loud victories ; sometimes, it’s the quiet, consistent evolution that matters most. Loving the Process ...

The Weight of Unresolved Feelings I’m finding it harder to run away from my feelings of deep sadness and hopelessness. There’s an unsettling stillness in accepting that some things cannot be numbed forever. I’ve been slipping back into my old vices—not because I want to, but because they offer me a moment of release. A moment where my muscles relax, my mind expands, and my creativity flows. But I see it for what it is now: a temporary bandaid. Money, success, assets—none of it erases the emotional unpacking that I’ve yet to confront. Still, there’s something cathartic about putting my thoughts into words. This space, these reflections, they help. Because acknowledging the problem is the first step. Revisiting the Things I Love Beyond the heaviness, this week reminded me of the simple joys that bring me peace. ✨ Time alone, undisturbed. ✨ A good series that pulls me in. ✨ Snacks. Loads of them. ✨ Reliable WiFi, because obviously. Most importantly? Silence. The kind that ...

  The Weight of Unseen Sadness There is a sadness in me this week that I cannot shake. A heaviness that lingers, curling around my spirit like a thick mist. My community has begun to notice, their questions cutting through my fragile composure like sharp knives. "Are you okay?" Each inquiry feels like a demand for an explanation I do not have. I try to swallow my emotions, but the questions make me cry. I rarely know the origins of my pain—I just know that I am unhappy, unfulfilled, and longing to disappear. Far away. Where no one can see me, where no one can know me. The Struggle to Keep Hoping I am tired. More than that, I am weary. Hoping has become harder now. The well of optimism I once drank from so freely has run dry. Initially, I chalked it up to the natural rhythms of my body, perhaps a passing shift in my cycle. But even as the days stretch on, the weight remains. I feel weakened by my failures, as if every attempt I have made was for nothing. Every dream chas...

  The Disconnect Between Intention & Execution I’m realizing that the day I write my blog and the day I submit it should not be the same. Throughout the week, I have these deep, soul-shaking revelations. My thoughts feel poetic, my realizations profound—but then Friday arrives, and I’m blank. Or irritable. Or emotionally haywire. I don’t like this. I don’t like how I’m showing up in this creative space. It feels rushed, like I’m forcing the magic instead of nurturing it. And maybe that’s the real lesson here—not just in writing but in life. Rushing Through Excellence How often do we set our minds on something, only to rush through it just to say we did it? We tell ourselves we’re working toward greatness, but if we’re honest, we’re not fully present in the process. We show up halfway, give a “good enough” performance, and then wonder why we feel mediocre. The truth? We can’t expect extraordinary results from basic effort. Excellence requires patience, refinement, a...