🔥 Consistency Without Fire: Showing Up When It Isn’t Sexy
I feel like I talk in circles sometimes, like even when I’m on different topics, they all coexist and overlap in some way.
I’ve been gone for a while. Starting my new job opened the floodgates of abundance for me. And you’d think that would make life easier and happier, and it did. But it also stirred something inside of me that felt uncomfortable with the positive shift. It was overwhelming in a way I wasn’t used to.
With the high of receiving so much came the inevitable crash. And that crash led me back to a place of grief and longing, searching for something outside of myself to make me happy.
After weeks of chasing dopamine highs and lows, I remembered: I’ve been here before. This feeling is familiar. The comfort of lack and dopamine crashes had become my “happy place.”
That’s when I saw it clearly: the staircase of my soul leading back to the seat I’d left behind. I sat down, hugged myself, and whispered, Welcome back.
❓ What’s the Point?
Even with all this abundance, I’ve found myself feeling lost, asking: what’s the point?
I’m still not where I want to be.
I still don’t have the love of my life.
It felt like this wave of abundance was supposed to usher in a new chapter—but instead, I found myself stuck in the same loop.
🪞 The Hard Truth
Talking with my therapist, I realized something important: I was right. I am supposed to be starting a new life. But the reason I feel stuck isn’t because life hasn’t given me what I want, it’s because I haven’t been willing to put in the work.
For a while, I would put in spurts of effort and expect immediate results. When things didn’t happen, I felt like I’d wasted my time. Then I’d sulk, chase dopamine hits, crash, and start again. The cycle felt infinite.
Then my therapist said something that stopped me in my tracks: the life you want is on the other side of the work you put in every day.
It sounds obvious, right? But pause and sit with it:
Are you living the life you really want?
When you wake up and wish you were doing something else—why aren’t you?
Is it fear? A person? Yourself?
That’s when it hit me.
⚖️ Learning to Feel Alive in the Small Things
It sounds easy. Yet growing up in an environment where only big accomplishments were celebrated made the everyday steps feel invisible. Numb.
That numbness made me crave intensity, anything that reminded me I was alive, even if it meant pain.
But what if I could feel alive by chasing my dreams instead?
By pouring into myself what I so desperately want to pour into others?
What if the only thing holding me back from what I want… is me?
🌊 Choosing Consistency, Choosing Me
I’m realizing more and more that it has been me all along. I’ve been afraid of consistency because it feels too safe—too steady, compared to the highs and lows I’ve built relationship with.
The loop of “This is the year I’ll change my life” only to say it again the next year has been like an old friend. But I’m ready to break up with that friend.
It’s scary to realize I could have everything I’ve ever wanted if I just kept showing up, every day. Whether it’s an hour or five minutes. Big steps or tiny ones. The point is to keep moving.
So here I am again:
Back to chasing me.
Back to chasing my dreams.
Back to pouring into myself, giving myself a safe and soft place to land.
This is my space to reflect, to write out the thoughts I usually keep inside. And if you’re reading this, I hope something resonates. I hope it helps you on your journey back home to yourself, too.
💌 A gentle reminder for your weekend:
Consistency doesn’t always sparkle, but it builds the life you’ve been wishing for. Don’t underestimate your small steps, they’re the quiet and maybe boring, but they’re proof that you’re moving forward.
🌷 Thank You for Reading
If you made it this far, thank you for meeting me here, in the middle of my becoming. I hope in some way it reminds you of your own and motivates you to keep going.
📝 Soft Return Reflection Prompts:
Where do I confuse intensity for progress in my life?
What “old loop” do I keep revisiting that feels safe, even though it holds me back?
What would my life look like if I trusted daily steps instead of waiting for big breakthroughs?
🌺 Affirmation Set
I don’t chase chaos, I build peace.
Consistency is my rebellion.
Dopamine is not my compass.
My discipline is my freedom.
I am the fire and the foundation.
Until Next Time 🌺
When Receiving Feels Like Resistance
🌫 When You Don’t Know What to Do
What do you do when you don’t know what to do?
What do you say when you have nothing left to say?
I’m usually someone who can string words together, even when I don’t feel like I have anything to say. But these past few weeks, life has felt both fast and slow—like I’ve been moving in a weird kind of limbo.
Like I’m so close to that happy place, yet so far I don’t even know what steps to take.
A few weeks ago, I wrote about a job interview I almost didn’t show up for.
I told myself I wouldn’t get it.
But I did.
It’s with a company I’ve wanted to work for. It’s hybrid. Less stress. A little more pay. I should be ecstatic.
And I was.
But lately, I’ve found myself in a strange place.
Sometimes, when you’re used to rejection—used to the door being closed in your face—it feels confusing when one opens.
And when you’re invited to sit at the table?
You almost don’t know how to eat.
That’s what I’ve been working through lately: the feeling that I have to perform or be in service in order to deserve good things.
It’s a pattern I’ve seen in relationships, but now I realize it’s everywhere.
And if I’m honest, it’s been hard to show up.
📖 No Pretty Words—Just Presence
So this week, I won’t offer sweet affirmations or poetic reflections.
All I can do is show up.
Raw. Vulnerable. Honest.
Lately, I’ve been time-traveling—revisiting memories of relationships that didn’t work out.
And I’ve noticed I do this as a way to confirm my feelings of unworthiness.
Proof, my brain says, that I don’t get good things unless I work for them. Unless I earn them.
Unless I bleed for them.
I don’t know how to fully break out of that yet.
But I know that I’m trying. And maybe that’s enough.
My birthday is coming up soon (yes, Cancer baby), and if I’m being real—this time of year always makes me feel a little sad.
Sad that I’m not where I want to be.
Sad that I’m still single.
Sad because, if I’m honest, I’ve never felt like anyone’s favorite person.
And my birthday always reminds me:
I’m my own favorite person.
Whether I like it or not.
🤍 Still Showing Up
I don’t have the right affirmation to talk myself out of this moment.
But I’m still here. Still writing. Still pushing through.
And if you’re reading this, I hope you can relate—or actually, I hope you don’t because this feeling is sucky as hell.
But I hope it gives you permission to show up too.
Even if it’s messy. Even if you feel low. Even if you don’t have all the right words.
Every time you push through, you’re getting closer to the version of you that’s been waiting on the other side.
Future Joy—I hope you know I’m doing my best to get to you.
By any means necessary.
I’m trying, girl.
Until next time.
💌 Thank You for Reading
If you made it here, thank you for holding space for this version of me.
Not every post will be polished. Some will just be presence. But if it reminded you to keep showing up for yourself messy or not then it did what it was meant to.
I Am the Room
🌙 The More I Achieve, the Less I Feel I Belong
The past few weeks have been a lot. Between work, life, relationships, and dog-mom duties (and I don’t know if all dogs are like this, but allergy season is the worst for mine), everything feels like it’s piling up.
But this week specifically? It had me losing sleep.
Not because anything huge happened, but because of the quiet self-talk I’m still working on. The things I’d never say out loud, but somehow still repeat on a loop inside.
I had an interview this week. For a role I already do—and more—on the daily. But somehow, I was anxious. I kept imagining how disappointed I’d feel if I didn’t get it. What if they asked something I didn’t know?
The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to back out.
The night before the interview, I couldn’t sleep. I even considered canceling. The thoughts were so loud:
You’ll fail. You’re not ready. Why even try if you already know the outcome?
But I showed up anyway. Put on my blazer and lip gloss. Pushed through.
And funny enough?
The interviewer said:
“You have extensive experience in this field—honestly, this might be a step down from what you’re currently doing.”
So, I might not get the position, not because I’m not enough... but because I’m overqualified.
And that got me thinking:
How often do I make myself smaller to soften the blow of potential failure?
How many things do I not even try, just in case I fall short?
The truth is, the interview was a breeze. But the anxiety beforehand was real.
I was terrified they’d ask a question that revealed what I subconsciously believe: that I’m not enough. That I don’t really belong.
Imposter syndrome is something I’ve carried my whole life.
And the wild part?
The more I achieve, the more I feel like I’m faking it.
Let’s unpack that, softly.
🪴How It Shows Up…
In Career:
Not applying for roles you’re more than capable of
Asking for less because you’re scared of seeming “too much”
Saying yes to things you don’t want to do just to prove you deserve your spot
In Relationships:
Accepting the bare minimum and calling it love
Overfunctioning to feel chosen
Confusing consistency with emotional availability
In Self:
Shrinking your voice when your power rises
Feeling guilty for rest, asking for help, or taking up space
Believing your softness makes you weak instead of powerful
🔅What I’m Learning to Shift
The common thread in all of these?
What I tell myself.
The stories I run on loop. The quiet assumptions about what I deserve.
This week, I told myself I wasn’t ready. That I wasn’t enough. And I almost pulled the rug from under me. But I didn’t.
And the truth? I’m more than enough.
I actually deserve more.
What a wild, freeing thought.
You don’t have to overperform to be worthy.
You don’t have to accept less than your heart craves.
You do have to listen to the part of you that believes there’s more for you.
Even when it’s quiet. Even when it’s scary.
That voice? That’s your higher self. Follow her.
💌 A gentle reminder for your weekend:
What if you’re not an imposter?
What if you’ve just outgrown the spaces
that never expected someone like you to rise?
🌷 Thank You for Reading
If you made it this far, thank you for staying.
This post was stitched from pieces of my own softness, doubt, and truth.
And if it found you where you are—just know, I’ve been there too.
📝 Soft Return Reflection Prompts:
If I wasn’t trying to prove anything, how would I show up differently?
Is the way I describe myself rooted in truth—or in the version I think others will accept?
Where am I still performing confidence instead of practicing compassion in my self-talk?
🌺 Affirmation Set
I no longer shrink to fit into spaces I’ve already outgrown.
I am not a mistake. I am a mirror of the light I’ve been searching for.
I release the story that says I have to earn my place in the room—I am the room.
Even when doubt knocks, I stay close to myself. I don’t walk away—I choose me.
Until Next Time 🪷
Becoming the Light 🕯️ Craved
🕯️The Ache That Sent Me Searching
Sometimes, when you’re unaware of a void inside yourself, you go unconsciously searching for it in the world. And when the world doesn’t give you what you’re missing—or gives it, only to take it away—you’re left wondering what’s wrong with you. And you feel emptier than before.
I recently broke up with a recurring ex. He’s lingered since our initial relationship in 2021 until now, 2025. During our time apart from 2021–2024, I realized how much of a safe space he had been for me. I thought about him literally every day. Longed to be seen in that way again.
When we got back together in December, I felt alive. Everything felt, looked, even smelled better. I started working out again. I started investing. I started getting my sh-t all the way together—because we were planning a future. Marriage. Stability. The version of myself I had been waiting to become.
But obviously, by calling him my ex, you can guess: it didn’t work out.
Post-breakup, it felt like someone had flipped the lights off in my life. Vibrancy dulled. Joy faded. Consistency turned to avoidance. That safe space of being seen, heard, and felt was snatched away. Again.
🌙 The Question That Shifted Everything
Then I had a profound session with my therapist. After I described everything I cherished about having him in my life, she asked me a simple question:
“What if what he provided for you, you can provide for yourself?”
I’d heard versions of that before—but this time, it hit different. This time, I was empty enough to actually consider it.
So I tried.
After workouts, I’d “text” myself: “I’m proud of you. I’m happy you’re staying consistent with your goals.” When I was sad and craving physical comfort, I cried. I held myself. I snuggled with my dog. I validated my feelings instead of gaslighting myself. I stopped calling myself crazy for feeling and started honoring the part of me that felt deeply.
And that’s when the shift began:
I realized I had always created space for others.
I showed up when people made room for me.
But I had never once created space for myself.
And now I was.
What if everything I’d been unconsciously searching for in others… was waiting for me within?
🌿 What Safety Used to Look Like
To me, safety looked like:
Vulnerability
Encouragement
Reassurance
Presence
If someone gave me just a glimpse of those things, I clung to them. And when they left, I felt discarded. Like I was too much. Or not enough.
But really—I was chasing slivers of light because I hadn’t yet learned to shine my own.
It put so much pressure on every relationship. Every new friend was my long-lost sister. Every man who showed kindness? My future husband. I gave loyalty at a level people hadn’t earned. And when it wasn’t returned, I felt unlovable.
The truth?
I had been abandoning myself—so of course it was easy for others to do the same.
💫 The Shift That Saved Me
That therapy session changed everything. I started noticing lifelong patterns. And now, I’m taking sacred, simple steps to become my own safe space:
I speak to myself gently. I no longer dismiss my emotions—I hold them. I find their root. I give myself credit for feeling at all.
I stopped shrinking to be liked. If people leave when I show up as my full self, they were never meant to stay.
I keep promises to myself. That builds real trust—because no matter what, I have me.
I stopped romanticizing everything. Not every hello is a love story. Not every kind soul is family. I let people show me who they are before assigning them a role.
I leave emotional doors open. People can come and go. My peace no longer clings—it flows.
I create intimacy for myself. Date nights. Bubble baths. Champagne and candles. Weekly reminders that I can experience tenderness with myself, for myself, by myself.
Because waiting for someone else to give it to me?
Only reinforces the idea that I’m not already worthy of it.
🪞 A Gentle Reflection
What patterns make you view others as more worthy than yourself?
Recognizing patterns is hard. It takes honesty, patience, and grace. But once you notice them—they don’t go unseen again.
There’s no better feeling than knowing: I got me.
No matter who stays or leaves.
There’s a peace that comes from being your own soft landing.
There’s a power in being your own safe place.
The light you’ve been searching for outside?
It’s been glowing inside you this whole time.
You just needed to come home to it. ❤️
💌 A gentle reminder for your weekend:
Breathe. You’re allowed to be held by your own presence.
🌷 Thank You for Reading
If you made it this far—thank you for walking through this with me.
Healing doesn’t always look graceful, but every time I choose myself, I get closer to wholeness.
This space is my way of not abandoning myself.
I hope it reminds you to stay with you, too.
📝 Soft Return Reflection Prompts:
– What have I been waiting for someone else to give me that I can begin offering to myself?
– What patterns have I repeated in relationships that made me abandon my own needs?
– What would it look like to become a safe space for myself this week?
– How can I show up with softness without shrinking?
✨ Affirmation Set:
I am my own soft landing.
I don’t have to chase love. I return to it within.
I honor my emotions as sacred, not inconvenient.
My light is not borrowed, it’s my own.
I am no longer waiting to be chosen. I have already chosen me.
Until next time 🌷
The Pressure to Be Her and the Presence That’s Actually Making Me Her
✨ What I'm Learning About Pressure vs Presence
Starting something new always comes with pressure.
Pressure to be perfect.
Pressure to create something that takes off.
Especially now—when people can blow up overnight from literally anything—it’s easy to wonder:
Will I be the one who pops? Or the one who has to slowly, painfully, birth something into greatness?
That kind of pressure? It doesn’t help.
It disconnects you from your own rhythm.
And honestly, sometimes self-abandonment and grace can look the same.
This week, I almost didn’t make a blog post.
Not because I didn’t want to—but because I felt like I had to show up perfect.
Like I’m some wise person who has it all figured out.
But the truth?
The more steps I take, the more confused I feel.
Confused because…
What if what I want takes too long?
What if I give up halfway?
What if I pour my heart into something that doesn’t go anywhere?
I see the vision clearly.
I know the life I want to live and love.
But the road there? Sometimes it feels too windy, too unclear, too hard.
Luckily, I showed up anyhow.
Imperfect. Confused. Drained.
But real.
Because the truth is—you won’t always feel like taking the steps.
But that version of you you’re becoming?
She’s shaped by what you do even on the days you don’t feel like doing it.
That pressure I put on myself almost disconnected me from her.
But I no longer want to live in the sadness of my comfort.
So I chose presence.
What I’m learning is:
Pressure is loud. Presence is quiet.
Pressure rushes. Presence breathes.
Pressure says “prove it.” Presence says “feel it.”
I’m softer when I’m present.
I don’t have to be profound to be real.
🪞How I’m Learning to Tell the Difference
Pressure looks like:
Feeling rushed or anxious when I’m not producing
Wanting to show something off for validation, not pride
Comparing myself to others and questioning my timeline
Presence looks like:
Giving myself grace and listening to my higher self
Letting failure be a teacher, not a punishment
Trusting my inner knowing, even when results aren’t immediate
I know firsthand how hard it is to stay present in the middle of pressure.
But I also know:
Your future self is clapping for you—every time you choose presence over perfection.
Every time you get up again.
She’s proud of you for choosing her, even when it’s hard.
💌 A gentle reminder for your weekend:
Be gentle with yourself.
Let your truth be the softest kind of grace.
🌷 Thank You for Reading
If you made it this far, thank you for holding space with me.
I hope this entry reminded you to hold space for yourself, too—gently, honestly, and without apology.
You’re doing better than you think. And she’s so proud of you for not giving up. 🌷
📝 Soft Return Reflection Prompts:
Where am I confusing perfection with presence?
What would it look like to show up with what I have—not what I think I should have?
Who am I trying to protect when I push instead of pause?
✨ Affirmation Set
I don’t have to rush what’s already unfolding within me.
I release perfection and return to presence.
I am already becoming the version of me I used to dream about.
My softness is sacred. My truth is enough.
“Knock me down 9 times but I get up 10.” – Cardi B
Whether this is your 6th, 9th, or 20th fall—get back up.
What you want is on the other side of what you fear.
In this life, you don’t get what you want.
You get what you’re willing to stay soft enough to work through.
Until next time 🌷
🌙 Holding Space for Your Queen Energy
👑 What Queen Energy Really Is
After a traumatic event, I think it’s only natural that we dive deeper into ourselves—maybe we go to therapy, pick up a new hobby, or, if you’re like me, go out partying with friends.
Nothing like a good tipsy night with your good Judy’s to help you recenter.
But once that’s worn out—then what?
The silence that creeps in after the distraction fades, after the hangover lifts, after the final session ends—what’s left?
That’s what I’ve been sitting with lately.
And it’s what inspired the first topic of our first Friday Soft Return Reset Ritual:
Holding Space for Your Queen Energy.
As a Black woman, when I hear the word “Queen,” I immediately think: strong, stoic, unphased, unaffected—and definitely not shedding a single tear.
For years, that version of strength shaped how I moved through the world. I subconsciously told myself I was “unbothered” or “not gon’ cry,” and instead of actually feeling my emotions, I just thought through them.
In a recent session with my therapist, I had a realization: I’ve been intellectualizing my emotions. If I can explain the reason behind how I feel, I convince myself I’ve processed it. But in truth, I’ve just dressed it up. I’ve suppressed the feeling with understanding.
Understanding is not the same as feeling.
And when I sat with that, I realized I wasn’t just suppressing emotions—I was suppressing my essence.
A true Queen doesn’t need to dress her feelings in logic. She doesn’t have to explain them away to avoid moments of weakness.
She sits with them. She welcomes them.
She cries when the tears rise—because release is flow.
She lights a candle, draws a bath, and meets herself in the dark, has those hard conversations with her shadow self—not as a victim, but as someone committed to softening.
And when the sun shines, those feelings are illuminated—not with guilt or shame—but with compassion.
That, to me—and to women alike—is our new version of Queen energy.
🪞 How We Give It Away Without Realizing It
When we’re operating from the unhealed version of ourselves—the version that longs for understanding, safety, and completion—we don’t even realize how easily we betray our own essence.
The version that doesn’t allow herself to break.
That reverses her tears when they’re about to fall.
That says “I’m okay” when everything is falling apart.
Self-betrayal doesn’t always look like something loud or obvious.
It happens in small, subtle ways.
When I said “yes” with a tight chest.
When I overexplained my boundaries so I wouldn’t seem mean.
When I accepted less than I deserved just to feel like I had something.
Those little betrayals add up.
It’s why your mind won’t stop racing at night.
Why the anxiety creeps in when the world finally gets quiet.
When we’re in a state of self-betrayal, we’re draining our essence.
We’re giving away our Queen energy without even realizing it.
Today, we recognize the signs—and we change the course.
🌿 How We Reclaim It Softly
Reclaiming my Queen energy hasn’t looked like a grand declaration.
In fact, it’s hard.
It’s ugly.
It’s raw.
It’s looked like my intuition telling me to go—and me leaving, without questioning it.
Without waiting around to see if I was crazy.
It’s looked like being brutally honest with myself.
Saying things like:
“This is the need to be accepted coming up.”
“This isn’t what you really want.”
Letting your emotions flow after years of suppressing them?
It’s foreign.
Staying true to yourself sometimes results in things you don’t want.
But the woman you’re becoming is worth the painful deshedding process.
She’s worth every ounce of discomfort to become exactly who you’ve always imagined you were.
Sometimes, reclaiming your Queen energy looks like lying in bed rewatching Insecure,
reading a good book and putting your phone on DND.
And sometimes, it’s standing in the mirror and whispering:
“Who I truly am is surfacing with every step I take.”
💌 Soft Return Reflection Prompts
Where am I still abandoning myself to feel chosen, accepted, or safe?
What would it look like to honor my Queen energy—even in the smallest way—this weekend?
What has my intuition been whispering that I’ve been too busy or afraid to hear?
✨ Affirmation Set
I honor my softness, my voice, and my inner wisdom. I choose presence over performance, and stillness over striving.
I release the version of me that survived by suppressing. I choose expansion, even when it’s uncomfortable.
My intuition is not a question—it’s a compass. I trust where she leads me. She will never lead me wrong.
🌸🌼 Thanks for Reading
If you’ve made it this far, thank you for holding space with me.
I hope this entry invites you to hold space for yourself—gently, truthfully, and without apology.
Here’s to the return.
To softness.
To the Queen you’re becoming—and you always knew you would be.
Until next Friday. 💌
🎧 A Queen Energy Wind Down Playlist
Sounds for your soft return.
Press play when you’re ready to vibe, wind down, or just need some background music.
✨🎀 Listen Here 🎀✨
⬇️⬇️