There is a version of me who survived something she never fully had the words to explain.

She turned pain into lessons, fear into awareness, and heartbreak into healing. This is for her.

Do y’all remember when I came back home from Washington and started a little series called Surviving a Narcissist?

At the time, I felt like I had been silent for far too long. I carried experiences I did not yet have the language to process, so I turned to storytelling. Those videos became a release. I spoke about patterns, warning signs, emotional dynamics, and behaviors because I needed to make sense of a season that once left me voiceless.

Looking back, I realize part of my intention was to help others recognize what I could not see in real time. I wanted to protect people from confusion, emotional harm, and self-doubt. I wanted my pain to serve a purpose beyond myself.

But like many things in my life, I started that series and did not finish it. Not because I lacked care, but because fear shaped my silence. I worried about how my words could be interpreted, misunderstood, or used in ways I could not control. That fear carried more weight than I admitted at the time.

Still, every time I posted, there was an outpouring of support. Survivors felt seen. People shared their stories. That connection reminded me that storytelling can be both medicine and mirror.

At the same time, I questioned myself. Was I sharing to help others, or was I still trying to convince myself that my experience was real? I had not fully processed why it happened or how it reshaped me. I needed time to make sense of it all, and eventually I stepped back because continuing no longer felt aligned with my healing.

Fast forward two years. Two long years of growth, therapy, reflection, and acceptance. I came to understand a difficult truth: some people do not change, no matter how much accountability, honesty, or effort is offered.

At some point, I had to choose what I wanted to carry forward. Pain, resentment, regret, or healing. I had to grieve the life I imagined, the family I once envisioned, and the future I thought I was building. That grief was raw, messy, and humbling, but necessary.

I also had to take responsibility for my part in the experience, not from a place of shame, but from a place of empowerment. I asked myself hard questions. I leaned on God. I committed to therapy. I chose, again and again, to heal intentionally.

Most of all, I chose love. The love I have for my daughter became greater than any anger I carried. A quiet mantra guided me:

“I love my daughter more than I hold onto pain.”

This is not the life I once imagined, but it is the life I am committed to living with integrity, peace, and growth. I refuse to let past hurt define my identity. I refuse to lose myself to bitterness. I refuse to become someone I do not recognize.

I honor the version of myself who chose safety, who chose growth, who chose motherhood with courage, and who rebuilt from nothing. I do not regret choosing peace. I do not regret choosing my child. I do not regret choosing a healthier environment, even when it meant starting over.

What I choose now is evolution. Healing. Emotional maturity. Boundaries. Self-respect. And love that does not require self-betrayal.

Because this is the kind of love I believe in:

Quote attributed to Sade Andria Zabala (often miscredited to Edgar Allan Poe)

“Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway. Not blind love, but forgiving love. Not perfect love, but patient love. Love that can hold your darkness without trying to fix it. Tell me your sins, your regrets, the nights you wished you could start over, and I will trace them like constellations that led you here. I do not want the polished version of you. I want the truth, the messy, fragile, real you. That is where love lives.”

Motherhood taught me what unconditional love truly feels like. And while romantic love is still a journey of learning, I know this much: I want a love that allows honesty, accountability, vulnerability, and acceptance. A love that does not require me to abandon myself.

Closing — Diary of a Self-Lover

This chapter of my life is no longer about proving what happened. It is about proving to myself that I can heal, grow, and choose peace without losing my softness. This is what self-love looks like in real time.

For the first time in my life, I feel nothing. And honestly — that might be one of the best things for me right now.

When I first said “nothing,” I pictured what Elena did in The Vampire Diaries — like I’d turned my emotions off entirely. But that’s not it at all. What I’ve discovered is that this “nothingness” isn’t a lack of emotion… it’s presence without fear or desperation.

Why “Nothing” Isn’t Nothing

2025 was a year of rebuilding — of rediscovering me. I prioritized myself like never before. I learned my boundaries, my limits, what drains me, what energizes me, and most importantly — why I choose the things I choose.

In the past, I spent so much of my life people-pleasing that I didn’t even know what I liked. When someone asked “What do you want?” my brain went blank… not because I had nothing inside me, but because I was so used to mirroring someone else’s wants.

Putting myself out there romantically — even just through apps — was a step forward. Even though I never met these men in real life, the whole experience taught me a lot about myself:

What I was willing to tolerate What genuinely excited me What felt like peace vs. what merely stimulated my nerves

I wasn’t looking for surface-level chatter anymore; I was looking for depth. And ironically, most of those experiences showed me that depth wasn’t where I was looking.

The Peace That Comes After Chaos

Since stepping away from the apps — but not from love — real peace showed up.

No racing thoughts. No juggling multiple conversations. No wondering who said what and why they didn’t reply. No anticipation, ignoring, over-analyzing, guessing.

Just… stillness.

And that stillness confused me at first. Because we’re taught that connection comes with butterflies, or sweaty palms, or anxiety — you know, the emotional fireworks. But what if peace is a deeper kind of connection? What if regulated calm isn’t a lack of feeling, but a healthier feeling?

What Psychology Says About Nervous System Regulation 

Psychologists describe something called the “window of tolerance” — the range in which your nervous system operates without being overwhelmed or shut down. When we’re in survival mode (trauma, stress, unresolved patterns), we’re either overactivated — anxious, reactive, overwhelmed — or underactivated — numb, disconnected.

Feeling regulated means your nervous system isn’t in constant alarm mode. It’s safe. It’s grounded. It’s settled. This isn’t emptiness — it’s stability.

Some modern thinkers — including voices in wellness and psychology — talk about how relationships that consistently calm your nervous system are the ones worth keeping. It’s not about the intensity of butterflies — it’s about how safe your body feels in that person’s presence.

This echoes a point from the On Purpose with Jay Shetty podcast, where the host talks about relationships that calm your nervous system — versus those that only stimulate it. He suggests that when a connection truly meets you and steadies you, that’s real compatibility, and not just chemistry. 

“If they calm your nervous system, that’s care. If they make your heart race but never let your mind rest, that’s adrenaline, not alignment.” — On Purpose with Jay Shetty (paraphrased) 

This Nothingness Is Actually Peace — Real, Deep Peace

This nothingness I feel now… isn’t emptiness. It’s relief. It’s my mind finally at rest. It’s my body no longer in survival mode.

It’s a regulated nervous system — something I didn’t even realize I was craving.

I’m finally free from:

Racing thoughts

Gut knots

Overthinking texts

Pleasing for love

Craving validation

And it feels so steady.

Now Here’s the Real Question:

Do you ever meet someone and don’t feel frantic, jittery, obsessive, or over-stimulated… but instead feel seen and safe?

Not nervous. Not tense. Not trying to “perform.” Just… grounded.

That’s the kind of connection I wasn’t even aware I was missing — and maybe you didn’t know you were either.

It’s not fireworks — it’s warmth.

It’s not panic — it’s steadiness.

It’s not chasing — it’s presence.

A Reframing: Nothing → Something Real.

Maybe “nothingness” needs a new name. What I’m experiencing isn’t hollow — it’s emotional steadiness. Inner peace. A nervous system finally at rest. A body that feels safe.

And for the first time… I feel secure in the stillness of my soul.

I am safe here. And that feels like everything.

By the time this blog finds you, it will officially be 2026.

How insane is it that 2025 came and went — and here we are, standing at the very first chapter of a brand-new era?

So let’s talk about love, lust, and exactly what I’m calling into my love life in 2026.

Before I dive into the nitty-gritty, let’s take a step back.

As early as I can remember — maybe around 16 — I was lusted after. Groomed. Conditioned to feel desired by older men who had their eyes on me. I didn’t know any different. And like any immature, love-starved teenage girl or young woman, I welcomed those men into my life.

Looking back now, I see them for exactly what they were: predators. Master manipulators. Men willing to do anything to sink their teeth into someone young, naive, and unaware.

That pattern looped… and looped… and looped again — until it led to the most detrimental break of who I was.

I had been pulled so far away from myself that I could feel my spirit being crushed under the weight of wanting to be loved, wanted, chosen. I wanted my happily-ever-after so badly that I accepted any version of what I thought love was.

But none of it was love.

It was lust.

It was what they could see in me that I couldn’t yet see in myself. They wanted my light. My purity. My softness. My youth. My ambition. My ability to love and nourish naturally.

They wanted the light I carried.

I became the placeholder — the anchor keeping them from going over the edge. I attracted damaged men who needed love, softness, patience. Men who wanted someone controllable, immature, and unaware of the mental games being played.

Was it always intentional? No. But was most of it? Absolutely.

It was always about how much they could take from me before I caught on — or before they were done.

Being lusted over is nothing new to me.

And now, with my Hinge profile getting the majority of attention based on my photos, that dynamic has only intensified. Even on days when I don’t feel like the most beautiful woman in the world — even when I’m not trying to glorify my physical presence — I know I am beautiful. And yes, the body is tea, okayyy.

But after the growth I’ve done over the last few years, I am completely turned off by men who think they can just yap in my face about how attractive I am or all the things they want to do to me.

I didn’t make it three years celibate because I didn’t have options.

It was a choice.

And trust me — it could have been broken easily if these men knew how to hold a conversation, show genuine interest, and actually listen when I said I wanted connection first.

Give it a few conversations, and their true intentions always reveal themselves.

I’m wide awake now. And I’m ready to love again — on my terms.

2026 is my receiving era.

This is the year of:

Passenger princess energy Gift giving Healthy obsession with me A provider A man rooted in his full masculine energy

A man who allows me to be soft because he is solid.

I’ve given men versions of myself meant to save them from themselves. But who was there to save me?

That’s the love I had to learn how to give myself first.

And now that I’ve reached a place where I can truly open my heart again, I will only welcome a man who loves himself enough not to project his insecurities onto me — or use me as an escape from the demons he refuses to face.

I may have been a fool then. But the woman I am now? I can see you.

I can read energy. And if I don’t get a clear read, my spirit team will make it loud. And please don’t let me pray for God to reveal you — because He will. And when He does, I don’t hesitate. I leave.

I might be mad. I might talk my shit. But I move.

I do not repeat cycles that delay my purpose — especially not for a man.

There is a balance in love. Being someone’s safe space is beautiful. Being an anchor can be sacred. But there is a difference between partnership and being someone’s refuge.

I’m no longer interested in being chosen because of how I make a man feel.

The question I will always hold space for now is: Does he want me — or does he want the version of himself that exists when I’m around?

Time always tells.

I’m dating slowly. Intentionally. And with the right man, the fundamentals — respect, honesty, effort — won’t have to be begged for. They will be reciprocated naturally.

One of the hardest lessons I’ve ever learned was surviving a narcissistic, abusive relationship and choosing myself.

No matter how many times I have to start over, I will choose me.

This healing journey isn’t about becoming hardened or bitter. It’s about becoming the best version of myself without letting what I’ve been through define how I love.

Even now, when I feel ready, old cycles try to resurface. But every experience brings me closer — to my person, my people, my community.

I’m learning to take life one day at a time. To accept things as they are — not as I wish they were. And most importantly…

To trust God’s plan for me.

I originally had a different blog ready to post. I usually like to write a few weeks behind real time—purely to protect my energy and give myself space to process what I’m going through. It allows me time to sit with my emotions, understand the lesson, and move with intention instead of reaction.

But this one came out of nowhere.

And yes—the lover girl in me cried. Real tears. At this point, you should know I’m a crier, okay? So let’s just jump right in.

I started the New Year unexpectedly single. Not exactly how I envisioned welcoming 2026—especially after New Year’s Eve plans quietly dissolved into silence. So much for sitting under a table eating my 12 grapes, praying for love, abundance, health, and protection.

Though, if I’m being honest… I did receive all of that. Just not in the romantic form I was hoping for.

A Year Worth Celebrating

When I zoom out, this past year was actually incredibly powerful for me.

My health alone feels like a miracle. I spent the end of 2024 and the beginning of 2025 extremely sick—flu after flu, month after month, with no clear answers. My immune system felt completely depleted. But I made it through. I’m healthy now—mind, body, and spirit. I’m back in the gym, meditating, exploring Pilates and yoga, and committing to caring for myself in ways that feel sustainable and loving. 2026 is the year I truly show up for my body.

Financially, I’m proud of myself in ways I don’t talk about enough. After staying home with my daughter for over a year—no income, mounting bills, legal fees—I worked relentlessly to rebuild. I paid off debt, repaired my credit, created savings, and did the hard, unglamorous work of stabilizing my life.

And then… I bought my dream car.

That moment still brings tears to my eyes. Sitting in that office chair, praying quietly, asking God if this blessing was meant for me. And when I heard the word approved—I knew. That car wasn’t just transportation. It was proof of resilience, provision, and grace. I’m forever grateful.

My life is rich in so many ways: the love of my family, the unconditional joy of my daughter, new friendships, spiritual protection, and a level of awareness that keeps me grounded and guarded in this season.

And Then… There Was Love (or the Possibility of It)

I won’t recap every moment of the past few months of dating—it’s been a lot. But this connection stood out. It felt different. Easy. Intentional. Familiar in a way that felt comforting rather than chaotic.

We connected deeply. Conversation flowed effortlessly. It felt like we skipped past the surface and met somewhere more honest. I felt seen—not just for my appearance, but for who I am. That mattered to me.

I knew there was pain there—healing in progress. And I carry my own history too. But there was mutual understanding. A shared softness. And for once, I allowed myself to be open without overthinking it.

I didn’t expect the connection to end so quickly.

Plans were made. Communication shifted. And then… silence. The kind that makes you question yourself, even when you know better. Eventually, the answer came—not out of malice, but out of reality. Distance, time, priorities. He chose not to move forward because he didn’t feel able—or willing—to show up in the way a relationship would require.

What hurt wasn’t the honesty. It was the finality. The lack of conversation before the decision was made. Because from where I stood, there was potential—something worth discussing, even if the outcome stayed the same.

Still, I respect the clarity.

And I’m choosing not to sit in limbo or question my worth. I won’t wait around wondering why I wasn’t chosen. I was. Just not in the way that aligned long-term.

Choosing Myself (Again)

Every time something like this happens, I feel the urge to harden—to shut down, to care less. But that’s not who I am. I care deeply. I want love. I want partnership, romance, and connection.

Just not at the cost of my peace.

So for now, I’m pressing pause. Hinge is deleted—not paused, not muted—deleted. I need space to refocus, to recentre myself, and to continue healing without constantly inviting people in who aren’t meant to stay.

This first quarter of the year is about me. My body. My energy. My growth. Maybe even a physical change or two—because why not?

If love finds me in real life, organically, when I’m ready—I’ll welcome it with an open heart.

Closing Mantra

“I don’t chase what isn’t choosing me. I honor what came, release what couldn’t stay, and trust that what’s meant for me will meet me where I am—without hesitation.”

I really don’t even know what to say. And I think that might be the most honest place I’ve been in for a while.

Every time I feel creative—every time I feel the urge to share my life, my healing, my experiences—I feel a nudge from spirit telling me to reel it back in. And for a moment, that confused me. Because if you’ve been here from the beginning, you know this blog itself was once just a dream… one that came to me almost exactly a year ago and has finally come into fruition.

So why would I be called to pull back now?

At first, I interpreted it the way I always have: As soon as I open myself back up, I’m “saying too much.” And when that thought creeps in, I do what I’ve always done best—I isolate. I shut down. I stop sharing. I stop connecting.

But this is a dream of mine. And I refuse to let fear, trauma, or the lingering effects of being watched, judged, or misunderstood keep me hostage.

Because I didn’t come this far just to disappear again. And I didn’t build this space to show up as a diluted or unauthentic version of myself—to please who? Because it’s definitely not me.

A Misinterpretation of Spirit

Yes, my spirit team has been telling me to “shut the fuck up”…. but not in the way my trauma wants me to believe.

This isn’t about silencing myself. It’s about discernment.

Right when I started feeling comfortable again, the unhealed parts of me resurfaced. And that makes sense—because three years ago around this time, I was planning my escape from a narcissistic relationship. I had no money, no support system nearby, a newborn baby, and was deep in postpartum. I was terrified.

I packed what I could—my baby, a checked bag, a diaper bag—and I left everything else behind.

And even when I was thousands of miles away, I didn’t feel safe.

I truly believed I was being watched, tracked, monitored. I was afraid that anything I posted—no matter how harmless—could be used against me. That photos could give away my location. That visibility equaled danger.

And the hardest part? My instincts weren’t wrong.

So I disconnected from everything and everyone. I told myself it was protection. And in many ways, it was. But I was also disconnecting from me.

The Pattern I’m Unlearning

As a child, I learned that staying quiet kept the peace. That not rocking the boat was safer.

And without realizing it, I carried that same survival pattern into my adult life—especially when it came to being seen, heard, and known for the value of what I have to say.

So every time I try to step forward, that same feeling returns: You’re saying too much. This could be used against you. It’s safer to stop.

But here’s the truth I’m finally facing:

The narcissist will always be a narcissist. But my biggest fear was never really them.

It was me.

It was the fear that if I start something, I’ll have to keep going. That I’ll have to hold myself accountable.That I might actually succeed.

Because hiding removes the risk of failure—but it also removes the chance of success.

What I Know Now

Yes, my fears are valid. Yes, patterns don’t disappear overnight.

But I also know this: I am worthy of sharing my truth. I am worthy of success. And even if I stumble or fall, this is mine.

At least I kept going. At least I didn’t let fear dictate the ending of my story.

And the biggest lesson I’ve learned—especially now—is this:

Not everything is meant to be shared. But there is immense power and impact in what I choose to say.

That choice belongs to me.

And this time, I’m choosing alignment over silence.

With this year coming to a screeching end, I’ve been taking time to reflect. When I look back, there are a few major takeaways that have marked significant growth in my healing journey.

At the very top of that list is learning how to protect my peace.

There are many people still deeply simulated into the “matrix,” and I’ve come to understand that I live outside of it. Because of that, I have to move differently. When people choose to live their lives a certain way, it’s not my responsibility to correct them or to see their choices as “wrong.”

Let me reframe that.

It’s not that they are living life wrong and I am living life right — it’s that there is a noticeable difference in character between those who move through life with self-awareness and those who do not.

The Power of Self-Awareness

Self-awareness is the ability to recognize and understand your own thoughts, emotions, behaviors, values, and motivations — and how they affect both yourself and others. (Heavy emphasis on the others.)

Both parts matter. They go hand in hand.

When someone consistently plays the victim and remains unaware of how they treat others or how they come across, respectful interaction becomes impossible. People who lack self-awareness often move from a place of selfishness or self-centeredness. They fail to see how their actions — or lack thereof — impact those around them. And when conflict arises, it’s always someone else’s fault.

Sometimes I have to remind myself that choosing to live consciously is my choice. Not everyone around me will hold themselves to the same level of awareness that I hold myself to.

Conscious Choices & Spiritual Accountability

Now, I recognize when I’m making decisions from emotion versus intention. This is new for me. Just a few years ago, I made choices impulsively and dealt with the consequences however they unfolded.

But now, with the God I serve and the higher vibration I operate from, I reap what I sow quickly. Because of that, I choose never to move with malicious intent — no negativity, ill will, or anger. I know that energy will return to me, and I will have to sit with the consequences of my actions.

That’s why being mindful of who I allow into my space matters so deeply to me.

When I can’t fully control who I’m around, I shift my perspective and remember the one thing I can control: myself.

My emotions. My reactions (or lack thereof). How I carry myself. Who and what gets access to my energy.

I can exist in a space and not allow a single person access to me. That is the art — and mystery — of energy protection.

Recalling My Energy

As an empath, this year taught me a hard truth: I feel others’ energy more intensely than my own at times — and I can’t allow that to overpower me.

Recalling my energy has become a non-negotiable practice. Once I choose to let someone into my life, I am also allowed to call my energy back just as quickly. I’ve learned not to take that personally.

Recalling my energy is a form of protection — especially when I’ve given more than I’ve received, or when someone shows me who they are the first time. I don’t wait for a second demonstration.

The subtlety of this lesson is important: recalling your energy doesn’t mean treating people differently. The most powerful version of this boundary is often undetected. You can still be kind, engaged, and present — without overextending yourself.

Rediscovering My Voice

This year also revealed something surprising to me: I’m not actually an introvert.

I labeled myself that way as a child to avoid being seen. I learned to be quiet, shy, reserved — a people pleaser who stayed silent to avoid rocking the boat. I buried my thoughts and opinions to keep the peace.

As I’ve healed those parts of myself, I’ve discovered that I actually love to yap. I love to be seen. I believe what I have to say carries meaning and has the power to impact others for the better.

I still hold sacred parts of myself close — especially when meeting new people — and I only open them when I feel safe. That’s not withdrawal; that’s discernment.

Maturity, Dating, & Discernment

At the core of it all, this year taught me that I must choose peace over proving a point. Maturity isn’t about reacting — it’s about knowing when to withdraw without hardening.

There’s a TikTok trend going around where people share their dating history from 2025. And honestly? Mine looks a little sad-girl coded:

48 hidden matches/conversations

23 conversations waiting on them to respond

1 conversation waiting on me

Zero dates

Zero situationships

Zero hookups

12 men who got my number… and nothing came of it Still celibate Still single

And yet — I’m okay with that.

Each failed talking stage brings me closer to understanding what I truly want and reinforces my commitment to boundaries. Dating apps offer plenty of attention, but very little real connection.

I’ll always be a lover girl. I’ll always be a hopeless romantic. But I’ve learned to let men show me who they are without pushing, parenting, or performing for them.

I now understand the difference between:

Availability vs. intention

Attention vs. alignment

Carrying This Wisdom Into 2026

What I carry into 2026 is discernment over defense. Curiosity without urgency. Embodiment over performance. Alignment over attention.

2026 feels like an overflow year — I can feel it, and in many ways, I’ve already seen it.

So I move forward carrying the lessons, choosing love, light, and compassion — for myself above all. I’ve never been this version of me before: stronger, wiser, more healed, and still beautifully figuring it out as I go.

And that is enough. ✨

I love when a motherfucker gives me the opportunity to show them that I really don’t give a fuck.

Let me give some context.

I matched with this guy — let’s call him Mr. Secret Service — and things were going really well for the first week. If you know my life, you know the chaos, the discernment, and the way my spirit team taps me on the shoulder ANY time someone even tries to play in my face.

We were talking consistently. Daily. Double-texting. Phone calls. Effort.

The lover girl in me was rejoicing because finally — a man who wasn’t scared to show interest.

But then the little comments started.

“How long does it take you to respond?” “You be disappearing.” “I don’t like being left on read.”

Yellow flags waving quietly in the distance.

Mind you — I already told him I’m a mom, I’m working full-time, and when I’m not working, I’m mommy until my child goes to bed. My priorities are exactly where they should be. That wasn’t a problem… at first.

Then came the constant, “So when am I going to see you?”

I literally broke down my entire month for this man — every free pocket of time I might have between work, parenting, picking up extra shifts for Christmas, and trying to stay sane. He understood. Or at least I thought he did.

But a few days later, he started pushing again. Not just for a date — but to come to my house.

FULL. FUCKING. STOP.

Just because we talk on the phone does not mean you have access to my home.

You do not get my location. You do not get to “pull up on me.” You do not get privileges you did not earn.

Every time he asked, I said no. And every time I said no, he pushed harder.

The next morning he asked again if he was seeing me later — and that’s when the mask slipped. Suddenly he was emotionally unstable, passive-aggressive, disrespectful, spiraling, guilt-tripping, victimizing himself, and turning my clear boundary into a debate.

I gently explained — again — that he was not coming to my house. I’m a mother. I’m a woman. I’m not inviting a man I’ve never met into the space where my child sleeps.

What do I look like?

Instead of respecting that, he turned it into a whole dramatic monologue. Accusations. Feeling “rejected.” Acting like I hurt him. Like my boundary was some personal attack.

At that point, I stopped trying to reassure him. There was nothing more to say. Because I know my intentions. I know my boundaries. And I am so secure within myself that I will NEVER chase a grown man — especially not one who reacts like that.

When Men Show You Who They Are… BELIEVE IT

It seems like every time I start catching even a little feeling, these men show their real character. Their intentions always reveal themselves. Their emotional maturity — or lack of it — comes to the surface.

And honestly? I respect when someone owns who they are and wants to grow. But when you’re stuck in your ways, refusing to evolve, refusing to look inward? That will always be your downfall.

Three Years of Healing Taught Me Everything I Need to Know

These last three years of healing, shadow work, celibacy, building my connection with God and my ancestors — they weren’t pretty, but they were beautiful. They were necessary.

Those years trained me to:

✨ Trust my intuition ✨ Respect my boundaries ✨ Evaluate the ick when it comes up ✨ Listen to my spirit before my heart ✨ Follow my gut instead of my loneliness

I didn’t listen to my intuition years ago. I refuse to repeat those mistakes now just because I crave connection. I’ll do another three years of work before I ever fall back into those cycles again.

We’re Closing Out the Year of 999

999: endings, rebirth, shedding, completion.

This year was all of that.

I’m not about to block my blessings because I’m in a hurry. Every time I choose myself, I come home to my spirit. Every time I choose myself over lust, I return to my body. Every time I choose myself over lukewarm affection, I deepen my self-love.

There comes a point where you have to say enough is enough.

Enough of the old patterns.

Enough of the same dusty behaviors.

Nothing changes if nothing changes.

And honestly? I think I need to take a break from the dating apps altogether. It’s distracting me. It’s pulling too much of my energy. And as this year closes out, I want to move from abundance, not desperation. Alignment, not attachment.

I can’t keep pouring into men who don’t even have the capacity to meet me where I am.

This next chapter requires me to be selfish with my energy, my time, my aura, and my presence.

✨ LESSONS FROM THIS WEEK (For You, Me, and Every Woman Reading)

1. A boundary is not rejection — and anyone who treats it like rejection is not for you. Healthy men respect your comfort, your time, and your safety.

2. Early emotional instability is not “passion.” It’s a warning.

3. If his energy drains you before the first date? That is the date. And you already know the review: 1 star, would not recommend.

4. Don’t abandon yourself for connection. Your love is the prize — not the audition.

5. You can always reclaim your energy. Delete the app. Turn off the phone. Pull back. Reset. You do not owe anybody access to you.

6. Choosing yourself is spiritual discipline. It’s proof you’ve grown. Proof you’re aligning. Proof you’re not returning to versions of you that settled for less.

Closing Affirmation

✨ “I return to myself. I honor my intuition. I choose aligned love over temporary attention. My boundaries are sacred. My energy is mine. I am the blessing — and I will not shrink to fit anyone who cannot receive me.” ✨

Asé

Driving always seems to be the time of day where I can finally be still. No coworkers, no patients, no daughter calling “Mommy,” no one needing a thing from me — just me and my thoughts. And this past week? Whew. My mind has been reaching back into everything I’ve been carrying, and honestly, it left me drained.

There is nothing worse for a spiritual baddie than feeling depleted.

When I’m not pouring into myself, I feel every shift around me. Every mood. Every emotion. Every ounce of chaos in the air. And last week was a lot.

Healing from Being Dumped in the Talking Stage

Let’s just get right into the bullshit: dating apps.

You pick the best pictures, answer clever prompts, state your intentions, and hope someone out there sees your light. And still — the talking stage is where men love to do Olympic-level ghosting. I’ve watched enough TikTok horror stories to know I’m not alone, but damn… when did we all become so disposable?

I’m honest on my profile.

I’m newly free, I like my independence, but I still want love. Eventually. I’m not a casual girlie. I don’t do well with “situational chemistry.” I want connection, even if we’re not rushing into titles.

But dating apps make it too easy to treat people like they’re nothing more than a swipe.

One wrong vibe and boom — unmatch, block, ghost. Gone.

These men be putting “looking for something real” in their bios, but the minute you ask deeper questions? Suddenly the energy shifts. They take your number, text consistently for a few days, then disappear for hours… then days… then weeks. And when they finally come back it’s giving lukewarm, low-effort resurrection.

My vibe? Immediately killed.

If one more man asks me for my Instagram or Snapchat just to waste my time, the app is getting deleted. Immediately. Between the cold weather, the earlier sunsets, and my social life being what it is, this cycle feels like a trap I’m ready to step out of.

Spiritual Hygiene & Protecting My Energy

One thing about me: I pick up energy FAST.

My work environment alone — patients, women coworkers (enough said), teachers, parents, strangers — is enough to overwhelm any spiritually open person.

That’s why my head wrap is 98% spiritual protection.

Protecting my crown.

Protecting my ori.

Protecting my mind.

The other 2% is bad hair day… which I still turn into a spiritual moment.

Chaotic energy hits me instantly. I’ll go from calm to irritated, grounded to anxious, or centered to overwhelmed in seconds. Some people’s aura is just… a lot.

This is why spiritual hygiene is non-negotiable.

When someone enters my space with chaotic or negative energy, I cleanse immediately. Sometimes it’s a quiet prayer:

“God, remove any energy that isn’t mine. Steady my mind. Let my inner light come forward.”

If I can slip into the bathroom, I’ll do a quick energetic wipe-down.

And—you must throw that energy away. Literally.

Trash it. Flush it. Release it.

You can’t sage your house with the windows closed.

Energy needs somewhere to GO.

My shower is another reset. I pray:

“Thank you for this day. Cleanse, heal, and renew me. Cleanse my mind, body, and spirit. Restore me with Your light, blessings, and favor.I release the energy of the day.”

I am a spiritual being having a human experience, and I need to honor both.

A Message From Spirit (and a Little Honey-Onion Remedy)

Every time I get too caught up in my human experience, my spirit team taps me lovingly on my shoulder.

Since my daughter started school, it’s been cold after cold after cold. The infamous daycare cough. One night she climbed into my bed coughing, and her cough literally STOPPED my dream.

And clear as day, one of my ancestors said:

“Make the remedy.”

A jar. Half a yellow onion. A clove of garlic. Cover it in honey. Let it ferment for a day.

I made it for both of us and within two days? Her cough reduced, mucus cleared, no runny nose.

Moments like this remind me: I am a healer. This path chose me. And stepping into it is my birthright.

This Week’s Lesson: I Return to Myself

This week was chaotic — but in the best possible way.

Getting dumped in the talking stage realigned me with my boundaries. It reminded me:

I know what I want I must be upfront. Their response has nothing to do with me. My reaction is what matters. Anyone can meditate in silence. True power is staying centered in chaos.

I have the tools to cleanse, release, and transform any situation. I refuse to settle for lukewarm, inconsistent, surface-level connections ever again.

I’m stepping into an era where I know exactly who I am — and I’m done bending for anyone who can’t meet me there.

Closing Mantra

“I can’t control how others move, but I can always return to my own inner peace.”

Asé.

My prayer for 2026 is to get off God’s strongest soldiers list, because baby… this week dragged me through bootcamp. It was jam-packed with lessons on lessons on lessons—ending with me ugly crying in my Benz with rain pouring down. Cue the dramatics, but also? It was necessary.

Let me be clear: when you’re an empath, you feel everything. I can read between the lines of what people say and don’t say, and I can feel their intentions almost instantly. Sometimes it hits me right away, but most times it hits later—when I’m alone, processing. And whew… this week tested my spirit.

My drives to and from work are when I get real with myself. That’s where I realized: I tried to teach someone a lesson they weren’t ready to learn. And of course, it backfired. Someone who is inconsiderate and only thinks of themselves cannot be taught until they decide they’re ready. The lesson went right over their head—and I still had to clean up the mess.

Who am I to think I can do God’s job? I’m a spiritual being having a human experience, just like everyone else. Not everyone is as accountable or self-aware as I am on this healing journey. That doesn’t give me authority to make anyone see their faults. I can only control me.

Mindset 101:

Never let your emotions be the cause of your actions.

And the real lesson? Mind your own fucking business.

The Dating Lesson: Mr. Twenty-Fine Exits the Chat

Wheww… this part was heavy.

My favorite on my little dating roster was not showing up the way I thought he would. Mr. Twenty-Fine has officially left the chat. And yes, I saw it coming. I just didn’t want to accept it.

When I tell you that man is fine? I mean FINE. Physically? My exact type. And he made me feel sexy in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. Three years into my celibacy journey and baby… the desire is still there even if the action is not.

He was the spark, but there was no flame.

We went from hot and heavy to dry and fragile real quick. And in that shift, I realized I want more. I am a lover girl through and through. No matter how many times I get hurt or ghosted, my soft girl always comes back.

I deserve depth. Connection. Intention. Consistency. Not surface-level crumbs.

When I switched from spicy to soulful, he couldn’t follow. That’s when I knew: this was chemistry, not connection.

After a few silent days, I reached out. I told him what I wanted moving forward—depth, consistency, real connection along with the spice. But here’s the part I ignored: he told me in the beginning what he wanted. Fun. Short-term. Light. Flirty.

And he stayed consistent with that, even inside a thoughtful response.

We agreed that if things changed, we’d talk again. And then? He disappeared. Four days of silence. And I kept repeating:

If he wanted to, he would.

If he wanted to talk, he would.

If he wanted to plan the date, he would.

If he wanted me, he would.

And he didn’t.

So I planned a solo date to pour back into myself.

Because the same energy I was pouring out trying to be chosen, seen, and desired… I was losing grip on my own reality. I needed to nurture me.

I am the prize.

I prayed this week for God to remove what’s not for me—and baby, He moved quick. I reached out with a simple “hey?!” and got hit with:

“I’m not feeling it anymore… I’m not ready… I can’t give you what you want.”

My reply? “Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

But inside, reality hit like a ton of bricks.

The Real Purge: It Wasn’t About Him

It wasn’t really about him. He was the catalyst.

He represented the last remnants of a version of me I’m actively shedding:

the anxious attachment

the fantasy, not the reality

overgiving and overexplaining

romanticizing scraps

seeing potential instead of the person

making men emotionally bigger than they are

wanting so badly to finally be chosen

He cracked me open just enough for Spirit to come in and clean house.

Breakdown → Breakthrough

After my solo paint-and-sip date, the sangria hit harder than the lesson. I walked into pouring rain, checked my phone, and saw I’d been deleted off social.

I lost it.

Not because of him deleting me… but because it felt like I was being erased.

I sat in my car—my big body Benz I worked my ass off for—and cried. Not the cute cry. The ugly cry. The purging cry. The “I’m tired of this cycle” cry.

And honestly? It was divine.

Because healing doesn’t mean you don’t hurt.

Healing means you recover faster.

Spirit was loud this entire week. From the static electricity in everything I touched, to Summer Walker’s “1800-HEARTBREAKLINE” playing as I walked to my car, to the rain pouring down the same moment my tears needed to fall.

What my mind wanted to hold onto, my soul released.

Temptation always shows up when you’re breaking cycles. But choosing yourself shifts everything immediately. I processed the whole thing in under 24 hours.

That’s not heartbreak.

That’s reclaiming my power and creating my own closure.

Mantra: I am worthy. I am becoming. I am aligned with everything meant for me.

Healing is not meant to look perfect- it’s meant to make you powerful. Every tear, purge, every moment you feel like breaking is carving you into the divine being you prayed to become. Trust the process. Trust your growth. Trust the divine timing that holds you.

Asé