5:20 PM – Chicago, IL

Now Playing: Mixed Up – Miley Cyrus

Today I had a follow-up conversation with someone I love very much. Someone I truly hoped could remain in my life despite the divide between me and the rest of my family.

I reached out because I didn’t want time to pass with unresolved feelings or weird energy between us. I wanted to be honest about where I was at and make sure she knew I wasn’t trying to punish her or make her feel like she did something wrong.

I just wanted to take a step back in the healthiest way I knew how.

But instead, I was forced to accept something I’ve been resisting for a long time.

I don’t think I’m able to have relationships in close proximity to that family system without sacrificing my own sense of safety.

I wanted so badly to believe I could.

I thought because she was younger, I could simply prioritize her needs over my own. I never imagined one of those needs would be for me to leave out the parts of my life that shaped me.

I never thought hearing me celebrate surviving difficult things — even when I was talking about them from a place of gratitude and growth — would feel too heavy for someone I love.

But I also realized something about myself.

Even if they truly don’t care about me anymore…

I care.

I care about what information finds its way back to people I no longer feel safe around.

I care about wondering what version of me exists through someone else’s retelling.

I care because I walked away from that family for a reason.

So today, I made the difficult decision to take a step back.

Not because I don’t love her.

Because I do.

But because I don’t want either of us caught in the middle of something neither of us created.

And that is what hurts the most.

Not the decision itself.

The grief.

I’m grieving what I thought our relationship could become.

I’m grieving the version of us I imagined as big sister and little sister.

I’m grieving the hope that maybe this relationship could exist outside of everything that has hurt me for so long.

Her last message carried so much finality.

Maybe she didn’t mean it that way.

Maybe she did.

Either way, it broke my heart because it made me realize how much of that relationship I had been carrying.

The moment I put it down, everything became still.

And that is how I ended up here.

Pouring my heart out on Tumblr again.

For the past two months, I’ve been determined not to come back here. But in that time, I realized why Tumblr has always been one of the only places I’ve felt free to express my pain without feeling like I have to shrink myself or make it easier for someone else to hold.

This blog has been my journal since I was sixteen.

Now I’m twenty-eight, and I can look back through years of real-time evidence of my own resilience.

Walking away from that just doesn’t feel right.

Maybe that’s why I’m here again.

Not because my heart is broken.

But because every time it is, I’ve always found my way back to myself through writing.

For a while now, I’ve felt like the greatest thing that family system stole from me wasn’t just my sense of safety.

It was my sense of belonging.

That realization hurts more than I know how to explain.

But strangely…

It also makes me feel free.

Because if there’s nothing left for that system to take from me, then there’s nothing left keeping me from building the life I’ve always dreamed of.

I didn’t leave everything I’ve ever known just to keep living inside the prison that experience built in my mind.

So today, I’m making a different choice.

I’m choosing to let this grief become fuel.

Fuel to build the dance career I’ve dreamed about.

Fuel to become the woman I’ve been fighting so hard to become.

Not because I need to prove anyone wrong.

The wind is loud today. The sky is blank. No color, no shape. That’s about how today feels.

It’s been two years since my mom passed. The day I lost myself in a place I never should have been.

But what matters is this

I made it out.

I got out of that system before the two-year mark.

There was a time I didn’t think that would ever happen. A time I thought I’d never get back to a place where I could even try for the life I wanted.

And now I’m here. In the position to make my wildest dream come true. I begged God for this.

Looking back at where I was from the day she passed, through everything that followed, all the way to just a few months ago in the shelter…

And comparing it to now. I’m not just “doing better.” I proved something to myself. I proved that I can build a life from nothing under extreme pressure.

That’s the asset.

Everything I’m stepping into now is built on that. The planning. The discipline. The clarity. The way I move. It all came from that season. Now I’m in a different phase. Not survival but foundation.

And that means:

- consistency over intensity

- structure over emotion

- pacing over proving

Everything I said I would do, I’m doing.

A car.

My rent covered.

Real opportunities to elevate my finances through dance.

My body, my health, my vision finally aligned.

But more than that, I trust myself now.

I’m grateful for how God shaped me through that time. Not just for what I have now, but for who I became when I had nothing. He didn’t let me turn cold. He sharpened me. Gave me discernment, strength, and the ability to hold myself. Now I get to build from that. Yes, it’s been lonely, isolating & still heavy. However, I can sit in that without losing myself now. That’s new.

I’ve always heard “heavy is the head that wears the crown.” Now I understand it.

Not as pressure but as awareness.

Now Playing: Just So You Know – Jesse McCartney

13/90 (90 Day Life Reset)

I’m not happy about my actions from last night. I’m damn near disgusted. I’ve been doing so well, so consistently—how can one panic response change the entire trajectory of the night? I should have gone home to choreograph like I said I would. Instead, I spent the evening avoiding, seeking validation, and reaching back for a life that’s no longer mine. Even worse, I’m spending today beating myself up over it instead of locking back in immediately.

Last night showed me a lot, and I wish I had stayed to observe and hold myself through that panic episode while focusing on what actually matters to me. Instead, I shut down and talked myself out of enjoying a nice evening of dancing and connecting with my peers. Even Jules coming out and being the first person I saw didn’t anchor me. We literally lived together in LA, shared our first night during an earthquake, along with so many other fun memories. I know it was a sign to stay…and I didn’t take it.

I’m trying to use the rest of the day to turn myself around. I went to Target to get a composition notebook. I’m finally accepting that I am functional over aesthetic. I’ve retired the Louise Carmen because it’s too overstimulating and am returning to what I do best: dump first, organize later, and make it look aesthetic from there. The lack of a signature look probably relates to the identity crisis I’ve been feeling lately.

Last night, I was observing how it’s been six years in the community, and I still have yet to share my artistry and brand. I’ve been working on this foundation for years, and yes, the community knows of me, but they don’t know who I am, what I stand for, and the little personal flair I wrap it in. I shouldn’t care. I know I decided early to take the road less traveled, working underground instead of in the community spotlight.

It’s crazy to think I’ve been struggling with imposter syndrome when I am literally building everything I want from the ground up. I am a teaching artist for the Joffrey Ballet, and I still don’t know exactly how I want that to be perceived within my own brand and artistry. That’s nuts, and it shows a lot about where my growth was stunted when I left for LA.

I think the biggest takeaway from this weekend is showing me where I need to start and what is most important right now: regulating my nervous system. Daily. I’m starting to differentiate between the routine I’m building around training and being the best dancer and person I can be every day, and the intentional, strict nurturing my nervous system needs to get even close to regulated after all the damage that’s been done.

The great thing is that, as much as I seek connection, community, and validation from others, I always come back to the conclusion that all I ever have to do is worry about myself. I’m truly not obligated to anyone or anything, and as lonely and scary as that feels at 28 years old, it’s also comforting. It allows me the freedom to have the thing I’ve been asking God for forever.

I’m finally back where I asked God to place me. I didn’t ask Him to give me my dreams, but to put me in a position to pursue them daily with freedom. Although it’s challenging because I don’t have all the resources I want, I know God is providing everything I need to go after them fully and that’s all I need.

Now Playing: Care – Sonder

Do you ever ask yourself, “How can I end my days feeling more satisfied with where I am in life?”

I think my question is a little more complex than that. I want to feel content while still maintaining my hunger for more—for better.

Today was good. It’s late, and I can feel myself being a little hard on myself. It’s only Day 2 of my 90-day lifestyle reset, and the day started off a bit off because yesterday ended with so much unfinished business. So instead of forcing it, I used today to recover and get myself back on track for tomorrow.

Even though I didn’t hit many “wins” today, I did what I could—and I’m proud of that. I’m proud of how I recovered.

I took class in the city tonight. Dre let me guest, and it was exactly what I needed. I’m really happy with how quickly I was able to pick up and how smoothly I flowed. There’s still a lot of work to do—especially with performance and feeling fully confident in my body again—but just showing up, especially after a rough start and lack of sleep, meant everything.

Now I’m home, fed, and ready to rest so I can approach tomorrow the right way. I want to get to work early, handle some admin, and give myself time to get grounded and aligned before the day really starts. I also want to reset my energy in the classroom. Despite the friction I’ve been feeling with the other teachers, I want to show up as my best self—light, positive, and grounded.

Reset and recover was today’s theme.

Tomorrow, I want to start clean. Ahead. Not rushed or panicked.

Drinking a gallon of water each day is actually helping me slow down and be more intentional. This challenge is doing exactly what I need it to do—bringing my focus back to where it belongs: on me.

Becoming the best version of myself has to be the priority.

That’s why I asked myself what would make my days feel more satisfying. In an ideal world, I’d have a sweet boy to talk to, to wind down with, to share music with. But I also know how easily that can distract me.

Right now, my focus needs to be on becoming the dancer I know I’m capable of being—and turning these ambitions into reality.

If my life were a movie, and I was the main character, the audience would be screaming at me to lock in right now. Because everything I want is on the other side of consistency.

Would attention and affection feel good? Of course. With everything I’ve overcome and everything I’m building, that kind of tenderness would feel comforting.

But I trust God.

Now Playing: “No Call No Show” — Chase Shakur

One of the greatest things about this new stage in life is that if I can’t sleep, I can drive 30 minutes into the city to my favorite dance studio and session with the homies until I get tired. God, I missed this. I missed being free and enjoying my solitude, while still being able to find community.

It’s been hard to journal lately because I can barely even fathom how good things have been. It feels like so many little winks from God, reminding me to enjoy this season and recognize that the dark days are finally over. Everything I say and do lately reflects how much I’ve stepped into the woman I’m meant to become… and the crazy thing is, I’m literally just getting started.

I’m trying to pace myself and really enjoy the present moment while continuing to lean into the energy that everything is working out easily and effortlessly.

Because that’s my life now: abundance, not scarcity.

Everything I want flows to me naturally. My intuition is the strongest sense I have. I deserve everything I desire. Nothing but blessings, wealth, and abundance are coming my way. My pockets always stay full. I always have more than enough. I attract authenticity and opportunities that allow me to create the life I envision for myself.

Truly, I could go on.

I am safe. I am content. I am filled with gratitude for the current state of my life.

This weekend with Maya.

The guys at the shop getting my car together and still making sure I got to work on time.

My landlord letting rent slide and giving me time to catch up on my priorities.

Romeo taking me on one of the most unexpected, sweetest dates I’ve had in a long time.

From here, I can only see things getting better.

I’ve been consistent with my runs again—three miles in thirty minutes—and I can’t believe how quickly I’ve been able to get back to that pace. Tonight I even started working on my splits again. I also made a great lesson plan and choreography for my Joffrey classes tomorrow afternoon.

I just feel on fire right now.

There is so much more that I desire, and it excites me. But it’s also easy to just sit in this moment and feel proud of myself.

Now Playing: Vienna by Billy Joel

The light layer of frost on the roof, visible from my bathroom window in the early dawn, tells me that winter is still here. The dreams I had last night remind me that the pain is still here as well.

Sitting on the window sill, I realize how much I need to slow down and be intentional with this stage, especially this stage of my life. This isolation is a gift. The things that are coming are going to be huge. I am going to be huge. I need to enjoy this time and build with precision.

Dance has been on my mind constantly ever since Joffrey. I am ready to really go for it this time. I am ready to take this to the next level. I have no time to waste. That is why I need to stop crying over feeling like I do not have anyone and start leaning fully into the fact that the way I care for myself is my strongest asset.

I am ready to start creating as much as possible. That is the closest thing I can lean into right now. Funny enough, I think this will always be my base. I am a choreographer now. I create combos on the spot, and I have a community of dancers to share them with if I just put myself out there. I know that sounds contradictory to feeling isolated, but in terms of career building, it is the truth. All I am trying to tell the world is that my name exists and that I love music and dancing.

Earlier, I had a breakdown about Mommy. I grabbed a photo album and allowed myself to feel everything. I thought about how much she cared for Tootie and them more than for her kids. About how I kept trying to express that to her and she never understood. About how keeping this family centralized under Tootie’s narcissistic abusive system is what has kept our family trapped in trauma cycles and dysfunction. I did not even have the words at the time to fully explain it. Tootie. For this family’s generation curse, it always comes back to Tootie’s abuse. She is an abuser. Period. I do not care how uncomfortable that feels to say. This is abuse, and what happened to me was not okay.

Leaving in the middle of winter, choosing homelessness and cold over returning to that environment, was me deciding that no one gets to treat me like that. I do not care who you are.

God rewarded me for stepping out in faith. Look at how He is setting me up to pursue my dreams full force now. This beautiful apartment. These amazing dance connections. These specific seeds planted in my heart that make me want to go for it so hard no one will see me coming.

Dance will always bring me hope. What it does for me. What it will do for me. What I can do for it. How I feel about it now. Dance does not make me. I make dances. That is it. It brings me joy and fulfillment in a way that words cannot. It is the purest way I can express myself.

Now Playing: “Bottle You Up” by Zendaya

The last album I ever expected to carry me through this season is her first and only musical masterpiece. I don’t even know what made me pull it up last week, but it’s been on repeat ever since. The production, the tone, the restraint—it mirrors exactly how I’ve been feeling: emotional, but contained. Soft, but strong. Healing, but still aware.

Waking up in my apartment now that it’s finally functional feels so good. I can already imagine how euphoric this place will feel once my personal style fully comes through and my furniture starts filling the space. Even the way I move through my days now—the way I strategize, stretch what I have, and make things work—it reminds me that I’m truly God’s child. Being guided. Being covered.

Today, I really impressed myself.

Like… nobody can tell me shit right now.

I’m moving differently. Blocking distractions. Protecting my energy. Making strategic decisions. Playing my life like chess while God hands me cheat codes. I feel so grateful, so certain, so grounded in where I’m headed. The little challenges I face now don’t scare me anymore. I’ve been equipped for this.

Choosing to get my battery replaced now instead of waiting—and having the shop work with me on payments because they said I sounded dependable—meant something. It reminded me that I’m building a real community now. One that supports me. One that doesn’t abandon me when things get hard. Something I’ve never really had before.

The mechanic was definitely cute, which honestly annoyed me because I wasn’t in my confident, flirty bag at all. He had the softest brown eyes and curly brown hair. I felt awkward, tired, disconnected from my body. Another man was trying to talk to me, and I was just being polite and oblivious. When Eric pulled up with my car, he could probably sense what was happening because he stepped in, stood closer, and naturally pulled me out of it. I appreciated that.

It made me realize how emotionally unavailable I still am.

I’m not connected enough yet for anything deep.

Which probably explains why I’ve been wanting sex—and only sex—since I moved. I thought me and Givanni would at least be cuddling by now, but he’s moving slow. And honestly, that’s probably because I’m only giving surface-level energy. I don’t want to talk. I just want to be held. Kissed. Touched. Safe. But I don’t have much to say beyond that.

And maybe that’s why nothing has happened.

Because even though my mind thinks that’s what I want, I haven’t acted on it.

Which means I must want something different.

Something healthier.

Something deeper.

So I’m learning how to sit in the in-between.

At the very least, I’m home. In my beautiful body. In my beautiful mind. In my safe space. I don’t work tomorrow. I get to do my hair, my nails, my little rituals that make me feel like myself again. I finally get to live like me.

And even with the nightmares, the restless sleep, the anxiety, the memories—it’s not consuming me.

I’m content.

I’m grounded.

I’m healing.

And I haven’t even started taking my meds again yet (lol).

All that to say…