Barely seen... Always NOTICED!

As 2025 comes to a close and 2026 slowly approaches, I feel a shift—even as I write this. Life feels different. I am in a season of becoming, and I want that evolution to show up boldly in 2026. I am growing into the woman my future daughter and my nieces can look up to with pride.

In 2025, I am leaving behind feelings of ridicule and alienation. I am releasing the version of myself still stuck in middle school—still questioning her worth, still shrinking to belong. I am letting go of the weight eldest daughters carry at every age. The voice that once told me I wasn’t good enough is finally being quieted. The version of me who thought she needed a circle is relearning how to stand firmly on her own.

Much of my twenties were spent as a secondary parent, yet in the same breath, my mother championed my pursuit of higher education—and for that, I am deeply grateful. I honor this season of reflection and cherish the semi-peace I have now, knowing it won’t always look like this once I choose differently. Gone is the girl embarrassed by how life unfolded. In her place stands a woman living inside an answered prayer.

Dear 2026,

I look forward to the woman I will evolve into over the next 365 days. 2025 carried immense heartache—from losing my Tiny to unexpectedly losing parts of my village. I’ve never known grief like this, but I trust that we will be okay. When it comes to family, I am learning that it’s okay to step back—my leadership does not have to hold everything together. In my work life, I can feel momentum building. I don’t seek power, but I know how to bend luck in my favor. Blessed and highly favored to many, but chosen by One. I see change coming—good change—and I am finally chasing the dreams I once only whispered about. The woman I envision when I close my eyes is beginning to take form.

When it comes to love—the part I hesitated to write—I think the moment might be circling back. Maybe the energy is calling again, and this time, I plan to answer. I’ve lived too long with one foot in and one foot out; I want to be all in now. The timing feels different. I don’t fully know what it means to be in love—I’ve spent most of my life flowing instead of choosing—but I want more. I want to dominate the spaces I occupy. I want to move with intention. I believe God is reminding me that this is part of my destiny—and that this time, it will work. (Or maybe I’m just in my head… we’ll see.)

My family is a lot—but they are mine. My last words to my Tiny were that I would take care of them, and while grief pulled me away for a while, I am finding my way back. What I love most is how deeply loved I am by them. My brother jokes about being the favorite—and maybe he is—but I’m the people’s champ. I was the underdog, and now I stand among the top. I look forward to one day marrying into a love they can pour into—healthily, intentionally, and in the right doses.

When it comes to change, a lot of people talk about it, but very few are actually willing to do what it takes. This season I’m in—both the one I’m walking through and the one I’m walking into—has taught me so many valuable lessons:

People will love you as long as you stay exactly where they’re comfortable seeing you.

It’s hard for some when a successful woman walks into a space. They want our rhythm, but not our blues.

Being the first is heavy. You break barriers and face challenges others will never have to experience—yet I’m grateful, because the doors I pry open are the ones others will walk through freely, even when those same doors were triple-locked for me.

I’m destined for something different. My path is not supposed to look like anyone else’s, and the blessing on the other side reflects that.

All of this to say: this season can feel lonely, but not in a sad way—more in a focused way. I have things to do, places to grow, and certain energies I refuse to carry with me anymore.

Just needed to pop in and vent a little… because whew, life is lifing.

Let’s start with the good: Opportunities are POURING in, and when it comes to an opportunity? Imma have it! I’ve got so many amazing things on the horizon and I’m truly excited to see how it all unfolds. The universe is moving, and I’m ready for the ride.

Now, onto the mess… My new supervisor and this work dynamic? Testing every bit of my patience. You ever work with someone who doesn’t seem confident in their role—or worse, their identity—and it shows in how they lead? Everyone knows I run this office and that I’m great at what I do. Period.

But lately? It’s giving Dr. J energy... just in a different skin tone. And while Dr. J used to work my last nerve (cursing just thinking about it lol), at least I knew he had our backs when it counted. This one? Always crying. Always avoiding hard convos. Always projecting.

A few weeks ago, I got cornered in the office and hit with, “Can we talk about how you show up as a young, Black professional?” — and it wasn’t giving emotional intelligence or leadership. It was giving I don’t know how to handle you, so let me make you the problem. For someone who hasn’t stepped up with the students, he sure has a lot to say.

And the kicker? I’m a CliftonStrengths coach. One of my top strengths? Restorative. So you already know I’m wired to fix problems—not deal with people who create chaos and offer zero solutions.

Today was Maventure Camp #1, and it went well... until the afternoon when he hit us with, “The students left Lower Chambers a mess.” As if I didn’t walk in this morning (the day after Orientation!) and see the same mess he’s talking about. We were upstairs all day! It’s giving passive aggression, and I’m honestly over it.

He might be trying to push me out, but I learned my lesson the first time. I know him and Laura probably be whispering and plotting—but guess what? Confrontation takes courage, and that ain’t something they got.

Baby, reading back through these entries… whew. I can write ✍🏽. Sure, I use grammar tools and ChatGPT to tighten things up, but the voice? That’s all me.

Here’s a quick check-in on life lately:

Work So much has shifted since I was last here. I’ve got a new supervisor — and I think he’s more intimidated by me than he realizes 😌. It’s becoming clear: not having my Ph.D 🎓 is the one thing that might hold me back. Everyone around me sees that I’m ready for more leadership, and that’s because I didn’t learn it — I am it. I’m a wolf 🐺.

I went through the job search process for the Director of New Student Programming at SIUE — and I got the job. But I chose to stay. I thought a move was what I needed, but it wasn’t the right time. I would’ve been the first and only Black woman in that department, surrounded by all white colleagues. And I’m not trying to be the Ruby Bridges of my career path — especially not after just watching Sinners.

I leaned on my family, mentors, and close friends for advice 🫶🏽, but deep down I already knew the answer. It just felt good to be wanted. When I called to decline, the Vice Chancellor told me they’d wait for me if I needed time. That meant something. But this season with my sister? That’s something I’m not willing to trade 👯🏽‍♀️. (Side note: I did apply for Alexis’ old job in Student Activities — so we’ll see what life has in store 👀.)

Staying at UTA feels like it’s about to push me into something greater. I got the raise I said I wanted 💸, and now it’s time to get serious about my Ph.D apps.

Sometimes I hold back because of how people in my story might be perceived. I know the field is small, and politics are real — but honestly, sometimes that feels like an excuse. I’ve been disappointed by people I once admired, like RJ. I’m just being honest — that one still stings.

As I grow, I’m learning how to move on without always having to say everything out loud. I talk about everyone and everything else, sometimes so I don’t have to fully talk about me. That’s probably been my best-kept secret.

Today is one of those days. I just need to vent. Had some interesting meetings with leadership, and now I’m a ball of emotions. I feel like I’m in an awkward space, but I’m trying to take my friend Travis’s advice: journal for 6-8 minutes, then let it go. So here it is.

💼 Work Feelings: Right now, it feels like I’m paying for the mistakes of my previous director. They left things in chaos, and now everything is falling on my shoulders. I get it—the work must go on—but because things weren’t handled properly before, it probably seems like I’m coming in too hot. There’s that old saying: As a Black person, you have to be three times as good to get half the respect. That’s exactly how I feel right now. I’m doing my best to keep emotions out of it, but it’s hard. I won’t lie—there’s a part of me that wants to call my old director and go off, but I don’t want to be the intro on somebody’s diss track.

👥 Friendships & Work Drama: Lately, some coworkers have made work… less fun. I never thought I’d be in a place where work drama felt like too much, but here I am. I’ve mended things with some people, but there’s still one lingering conversation I’m dreading. I’m supposed to go to book club tomorrow, but I’m not sure I even want to. Everyone wants to be my friend, but honestly? I need that boundary between work me and personal me.

🤍 Yearning for a Safe Space: I think I’ve been searching for a safe space my whole life. I thought I had it before, but I was wrong, and I’ve been struggling with that realization. I crave deep, platonic connections, but I also hold myself accountable in ways that make those relationships hard to find. If I’m being real, I think I’m waiting for the day I meet my husband because I believe that will be my safe space. I even sent my friend Travis a message today because I was on the verge of tears.

🖤 Final Thoughts: Honestly? I feel lighter just writing this. I appreciate this space. I know most people won’t read this, but even if one person does, I hope it resonates. There’s been so much on my shoulders, and just getting it out helps.

Dear 2024, You’ve been a year of change—some good, some challenging, but all meaningful in their own way. You’ve taught me to embrace the uncomfortable, to stay in my own lane, and to prioritize my expectations above anyone else’s.

This year reminded me of my strength as an independent BLACK woman. I’ve accomplished so much, and I’m learning to not just see but own that truth. From enduring a tough work environment to essentially running the show, I’ve grown into the ultimate leader of my life and surroundings.

God, I’m so grateful for the woman I’m becoming and the one I’m destined to be. Each day brings me closer to her.

As I step into 2025 in just a few hours, here’s what I’m claiming for myself: ✨ Acceptance into my PhD program ✨ A raise or promotion ✨ Falling in love with my equal (my husband) ✨ Dropping 50 lbs ✨ Buying my new car ✨ Starting a podcast or YouTube channel ✨ Deepening my relationship with the Creator ✨ Reading a new book every month ✨ TRAVEL, TRAVEL, TRAVEL

Walking into 2025, I’m not asking for too much—just a life that continues to grow and expand in beautiful ways. As I get older, conversations shift toward marriage and kids. Trust, I want that too—but in the right way, in divine order. I’ve seen others rushed into relationships or parenthood, and I know my path is different.

God, as I embrace 2025, help me grow into an even better version of myself. I want to fully embrace my femininity, strengthen my faith, and walk confidently in my purpose. Watch over me and guide me through the next 365 days.

PS: My MawMaw is battling cancer, but I believe in her strength. She has to make it through so we can take that four-generation picture with my daughter one day. Please, Allah, hold her close and grant her healing.

A subtle, almost understated presence that nonetheless has a significant impact. It refers to someone or something that may not draw immediate or direct attention but still leaves a lasting impression. This presence is quiet and perhaps even elusive, but it's powerful enough that people feel it or remember it, even if they can’t always pinpoint exactly why.

Dear Nailah,

Being an emotionally intelligent Black woman requires a strength that often feels isolating. Since I was young, I’ve felt a deep sense of responsibility, molded into a nurturer, an ever-present "mini-mom." "Heavy is the head that wears the crown" is something I carry with me, along with the reminder that just because I can do something doesn’t mean I should. Growing up felt lonely—I didn’t have the freedom to build friendships like others, given the lifestyle I was raised in. My mother did the best she could, but sometimes, even well-intentioned efforts leave lingering scars. My siblings and I continue to work through challenges because of how we were raised. I would never disparage my mother, as I know she was, and still is, in survival mode. But even now, I wrestle with the impact of the role I took on so young.

People often unburden themselves to me, and I let them because I’ve been conditioned to feel responsible. Even when I know I need to set boundaries, I feel deeply for others. It’s as though I’ve carried the weight of the world on my shoulders, never wanting to disappoint. Yet, in doing so, I often feel like I let myself down, accepting things I shouldn’t. But at 28, I’m finally learning to prioritize myself. For once, I’m trying to break free from the chains that have kept me in check. In a way, I’m thankful—those chains have kept me out of trouble, and I’m committed to being the change I want to see. Still, there’s a side of me that wonders if people would appreciate me less if they knew how deeply introverted I am.

As 28 approaches quickly, I find myself reflecting on how much has happened in my life. Despite everything, I am deeply grateful for the woman I’ve become. I often wonder where life is leading me, but I trust that things are moving upward from here. As a young Black woman who has spent much of her life caring for others, I’m content with not being married or having a family yet—though it remains my ultimate goal.

Growing up with my unique experiences hasn’t been easy. In some ways, I still feel like that awkward Black girl, hoping to be seen. I find myself torn between chasing my dreams and yielding to societal expectations. At times, I feel out of place among my peers. For instance, I’m about to turn 28 and I’ve never had a boyfriend. While I’ve had interactions with men and shared experiences, I have yet to find someone who meets the standard I need. I’m not seeking perfection—I’m waiting for my person. I don’t want to settle, as I see so many around me doing.

All in all, I am proud of the woman writing this message. I commend myself for taking the time to become whole, so that when the time comes, my family will be whole too. Some may call me judgmental, but I believe my standards are simply high. I’m focused on who I’m becoming and the love I’m manifesting in every aspect of my life. I want to be the person I’m asking for in a partner.

Sometimes it feels like those around me would prefer if I rushed to "complete" my life by having children, but I’d rather wait for what I truly deserve. I don’t want kids unless I have a partner fully committed to being a husband and father. I’m looking forward to becoming a wife and a mom, and I’m waiting for the man who’s ready to be a husband and dad.

The support network surrounding you holds a profound impact on the world. Over the past 8-10 years, my life has been enriched by cherished individuals with whom I've shared countless memories. Being a true friend requires active communication and attentive listening.

I've had the privilege of connecting with diverse souls from various backgrounds. While I often express intentions to maintain these connections, the reality is different. I am present but not consistently engaged. Admittedly, I prefer to witness the highs of life and shy away from the lows.

Yet, within this vast network, there exists a select few whom I consider my chosen family. These individuals know me on a deeper level, and I find solace in their presence. While I may not always be physically closest to them, they are the ones with whom I can fully be myself, sharing vulnerabilities and aspirations alike.

As I ponder these thoughts on a rainy night in Arlington, I realize the value of these connections in shaping my journey.

12:03AM

I intend to continue using this blog as my personal journal. Residing in Arlington, Texas, I'm a 27-year-old woman who has yet to embark on a serious romantic relationship. Though I've engaged in conversations with a few individuals, I used to attribute my single status to a fear of commitment. However, upon reflection, I realize it's because I haven't encountered someone who can intellectually and physically challenge me. I seek a partner who can expand my perspectives and encourage me to push the boundaries of my physical fitness.

While my romantic experiences have been limited, I'm content with maintaining a low "body count." I'm not necessarily holding out for marriage, but I'm also not interested in casual or meaningless connections. Life has been treating me well, and I'm continuously evolving and improving. I'm actively refining how I present myself to the world, and I'm pleased with the person I'm becoming.

I started practicing Pilates about a month ago. I'm about to head to my class, which begins at 11. Until later!

Dear Eldest Daughter,

I trust that you are managing amidst life's challenges. While it may seem overwhelming, remember that your path is uniquely yours, not meant for everyone to comprehend. To the eldest daughter, your presence is unmistakable in any setting; you are the silent force driving much behind the scenes. I recognize the weight of expectations placed upon you as the first-born. Though I may be perceived as someone capable of bearing all burdens, it's crucial for others to acknowledge my humanity.

To the emerging matriarch, you are being shaped to carry forward our family's lineage. Your journey involves breaking generational cycles while shouldering the responsibility of upholding our family's legacy. Not everyone will grasp the intricacies of your path, and that's alright; your journey is yours alone. You possess a rare strength, and I have faith that brighter days lie ahead for you. Stay steadfast on your chosen path.