Silk Dresses, Red Wine, and the Truth That Undressed Me

I met her at a restaurant that didn’t need a name, the kind of place you find when you’ve outgrown noise and crave nuance. The lighting was dim, deep golden, and forgiving. Sage-colored velvet booths hugged the corners, and the air smelled like warm truffle and old secrets. I wore a red silk slip dress that caught the candlelight just right, and a red lip stain sharp enough to slice through memory.

Across the table, she looked up, younger, softer, still carrying dreams she hadn’t yet bled for.

Earlier that afternoon, I made dinner reservations for us at 8. It’s 8:11. She’s late.

My early arrival was intentional, a sexy entrance and a reconnection with myself at the bar. A moment to ease my anxiety, revisit a part of me I had misplaced, and catch a flicker of dopamine from the lustful eye contact exchanged with the bartender. Let’s be honest: it’s the only kind of seductive action I’ve seen in months.

She’s here.

Her firm, perky breasts filled out the black lace, off-the-shoulder top, accented by a pearl necklace. Her shoulders were toned, her posture proud. I could tell she’d been staying disciplined, experimenting with diets like challenges she was determined to master. If I could bottle that freedom, focus, and fire again, I would.

My relationship with food, with my body, and with the expectations I set for myself has evolved. I love my body. But I’m still in a chokehold over something sweet.

We sat.

Our server, Alivia, took our drink order. She met my eyes with a subtle hint of truth and walked away with a smile full of hope. In that moment, I knew what I needed to do: serve honesty. Exhale. Meet my younger self with the grace she deserved, with the courage to try and the permission to not know everything yet.

She smiled, nervous. I smiled, knowing. And just like that, dinner between two grieving yet optimistic women began.

Her energy lit up the table. The salted-rim margarita she ordered screamed of a night out waiting to happen. I ordered a glass of Merlot. Was it a good decision? Probably not. The wine would undress my thoughts, pull me into old memories of lust and late nights, back when I was her age, with a premium roster.

I’m tired.

The kind of tired that doesn’t beg for rest, just space.

The kind that makes a woman wonder who she used to be… and who she left behind.

I looked at her and wondered who she decided to be tonight. Her alter ego always shows up for moments like these. Is it Ava? Or Praline? New Orleans left a mark on her, deep, velvet-soft, and unshakable.

She’s been on my mind lately.

I’m glad she called. Honestly, I’ve been wondering, if I hadn’t taken the steps to evolve, where would I be now?

Still slowly killing myself, staying in places no longer meant for me? Still craving attention from someone who only ever satisfied me sexually?

Some days, my wondering worries me. But then I remember, this path wasn’t just about growth. It was about pain, too. The kind that clears space for joy, love, and peace.

She flipped through the menu and asked, “Should we get the calamari or the oysters?”

I swirled my wine without looking up. “Both.”

Romanticizing our life, celebrating ourselves, and being the main attraction, that’s non-negotiable now. We live it. Affirm it. We’ve adopted the mindset: fuck anyone’s opinion of this lifestyle.

She understood. I told her it took time to get here. This intimacy, loving ourselves out loud, was earned.

She complimented me. Said I looked radiant, confident, happier.

I thanked her. Told her her words meant more than she knew. Seven years goes by fast. But seven years opens your eyes.

She confessed that she doesn’t know where to begin again. That after the collapse of a forever dream, her confidence, worth, and ego were stripped. Her voice trembled. She was hearing herself say it out loud for the first time.

She said her identity was built on performing, for others, for approval. She gave until her hands ached. Burnout was her home.

I told her life gets better the moment she gets real about what she wants. That she’s the one holding the wheel. But yes, some lessons will break her. That’s how she’ll start to see the full picture. Life is fleeting.

We laughed about casual dating.

Then I sobered. I told her not to let solitude become a waiting room for heartbreak. People will move on. Again and again. And she’ll be left holding time she can’t get back.

I encouraged her to be safe. To have fun. To protect her peace, and never bet everything on one person.

Then, almost shyly, she brought up her decision not to have children.

She’s known for years that motherhood wasn’t part of her vision. It’s been a dealbreaker in relationships. She’s doing the work in therapy. She’s making peace with it.

Beyoncé’s “Heaven” played in my mind as I watched her fight back tears, tears of confusion, hope, second-guessing all mixing behind her eyes.

She asked about my thirties. Asked if I ever got back with what’s-his-name.

I told her I never imagined this stretch without sex, but I’m learning to love this space, solitude, growth, freedom, all wrapped in the intimacy of being with myself, in a new country.

She tilted her head, listening as I explained:

Yes, I think about romantic connection.

But this era?

This era has cracked me wide open, spiritually and mentally.

I reminded her that choosing not to marry or have children by a certain age doesn’t make her behind. Her confidence will grow. Her clarity will deepen. She’s not envious of anyone else’s timeline, and that’s her power.

While we waited for the check, I said gently:

You’re responsible for unlearning the patterns that keep you stuck.

At some point, you have to decide to stop repeating the cycle, the one that leaves you with an overwhelmed nervous system, swollen hands, and overactive tear ducts.

She nodded slowly, taking it in. I told her that stepping out on faith, releasing the fear of judgment, and leaning into discomfort, that’s where the journey begins.

Throughout the evening, I spoke kindly to her. I listened. I offered love. I held space for her, to simply be.

After dinner, there was only a red smear on my fifth glass of wine. She was quiet. Not defeated, just changed.

She saw it now:

Becoming this woman would cost her more than she imagined…

But give her more than she ever knew to want.

I stood to leave, silk brushing against my legs like careless whispers. I reached for her hand, lightly. She held it, then invited me in for a hug. I could feel her still hesitating around emotional vulnerability.

She sat back down to confirm her ride. Watched me go. Eyes wide. Heart cracked open. Finally ready.

I didn’t look back.

Some versions of you aren’t meant to come with you.

They’re meant to bless you, teach you,

then be left behind.

The Quiet Power of Permission

Sometimes, the journey back to ourselves isn’t loud or dramatic. It’s soft. Quiet. It happens in the space where we finally allow ourselves to just be.

When the noise in my head gets too loud, I quiet it with words.

Writing is how I find my way back.

I give myself permission to begin again, without limits.

I live for soft nights, calm tones, and unwavering self-love.

I choose to honor and love the parts of myself that perfectionism once silenced.

There is value in the developing journey, the continued path of elevation.

It’s not about rushing to the finish line. It’s about saying:

I deserve.

I’ve opened the door to permission.

It’s not grand or perfect inside.

It’s soft. Honest.

Maybe a little dusty with neglect, but unmistakably mine.

It’s within this space that I find all the forgotten parts of myself.

I’m welcoming my gentleness,

my grief,

my WILD joy,

my tired spirit asking for rest,

my creativity waiting patiently to be heard.

Giving myself permission is an inner green light, a green flag.

It’s a quiet but firm yes.

It’s not about becoming someone new.

It’s about allowing yourself to come home, to all of you.

Consider this your own green light. You’re allowed to soften. You’re allowed to begin again.

my love letter to Sanya

I watered my roots, wrote to my inner child, allowing myself to feel again. You provided me with the space, peace and clarity needed to see clearly.

The shore re-visiting second after second with a roar powerful to awaken the inner depths of my soul.

Thank you.

While gratitude is heavily present, I still find myself caught in uncontrollable tides.

Change is hard but necessary.

Loss isn’t always in the form of losing another person, but sometimes within yourself. Who is this person I’ve become? Who is this person reintroducing herself to a new way of being?

Your reminder of exploration, courage and ultimately abundant gratitude, thank you.

My fire hasn’t gone out but ash seems to pile up and bury a light that withstands storms meant to destroy my wick.

Dancing to a beat that never rested and embracing a fierceness meant for me, the feeling of escape reminded me of what’s meant for me.

I discover parts of myself hidden in spaces where I’ve grasped onto comfortability. As I continue to transition and expand toward achievable horizons, I am embracing change and accepting uncertainty.

Thank you, Sanya.

Inner Child JOY

She’s proud of you.

Your inner child is someone who admires the woman that you’ve become. She’s filled with joy, and she feels safe with you.

She’s experiencing life with the tools and inner work you’ve done, and are continuing to do to make this possible.

The aisle she’s walking down is filled with tenacity, anticipation, and experiences far more than you could’ve ever dreamed.

Pieces of the crown are fit for a Queen on her throne of resilience, courage and abundance.

The layers of protection are thick, aware and forgives the past mistakes made out of trauma responses, knowledge at the time and the means of survival.

Your faith and strength stands taller than beanstalks that aren’t cut down by raised voices and shifted blame.

The joy in her laughter is authentic because the comfort felt at home and the peace that is unfolding in her moments of solitude are finally making sense. .

Your inner child isn’t just tasting cotton candy, she’s feeling it. The sugar rush isn’t slowing down.

She’s happy.

I Met My Younger Self for Coffee

I met my younger self for coffee.

I was ten minutes early; she was right on time.

I ordered a Flat White; she ordered a London Fog with extra vanilla. 

I tilted my head, closed my eyes, and exhaled. She looked at me in complete awe and smiled. 

We both have a matching red lip stain. Some things never change. 

“What’s been on your mind lately?” She asked.

I paused. Wondering if I should let it all out. I smiled and said, “Not much, just taking things day by day.” 

She said she’s thinking about giving up on therapy after one session. I assured her that after eight years of consistency, it’s worth it and necessary.

She gazed out the window and said, “But if I quit now, I’d be starting all over again.”

I assured her that quitting and starting over with intentionality for her true passion is the best decision she could ever make. 

She said that she really wants to travel, write and explore the world.

I told her that I moved abroad, life is getting better and I’m in love with my first full novel.  

She doesn’t know this, but I think about her often. It’s her perseverance, courage, and mistakes along the way that has shaped me into the woman I am today.

Before leaving, she gave me a tight hug and whispered, “I’m so proud of you.”

Rest: Hell, My Body Needs This

Rest.

There is a powerful message in the concept of filling your own cup. Yes, filling your cup, allowing your cup to overflow and learning daily, that you cannot pour from an empty cup.

But what do you do when your cup is dry? Not empty, but dry?

Rest.

In my first published book, I wrote a small note to myself about my cup being chipped, empty and dry at times. That was my first self-reminder about its importance.

“What comes out of the cup is for ya”ll. What’s in the cup is mine. But I’ve got to keep my cup full. ”

— Iyanla Vanzant

This past week, I experienced JOY, happiness, fatigue, grief, and all the emotions that make us human. Right? I pay close attention to the days I feel fatigued and exhausted. Lack of rest and clarity can disrupt quite a bit in our daily lives, I am a huge advocate for naps! Or in other words, resting my eyes. Our bodies can feel, detect and warn us when it is time to slow down, take a pause and FULL on stop.

This memo was loud and clear for me this past week. I fully cancelled Thursday.

Thursday morning, I was halfway through an assignment and multiple e-mails. Needless to say, I had so many tabs open in my mind; a growing to-do list, imposter syndrome wouldn’t let me rest, and I was constantly going on a few hours of sleep. I had class within the hour, so my anxiety crept upon me and wouldn’t allow me to type let alone finish my assignment. I began to panic.

Oh! To add insult to injury, the weather was a mixture of rain, snow, bitter cold, and I checked my ovulation calendar …let’s just say, I cried a salty river. I came to the abrupt conclusion, I needed to rest.

I’ve grown from feeling guilty when I take a day off, skip an assignment, call out from anything, and simply put ME first. I’ve grown past that. I recognize that everyone’s situation and circumstances may be different, but it took some severe ill moments for me, personally, to learn this.

Right before my move to Philly, I was committed to the hospital. I was in the hospital as a result of stress and exhaustion. I was still committed to finishing up my transition reports at work , packing my apartment, financial budgeting, trying to maintain my sanity and all the things in between. I had some amazing moments with friends before I left Atlanta, but stress and exhaustion had me weak and in a hospital bed. This wasn’t the first time, but I vowed it would be the last, if I had any control over it. I knew my breaking points, but I ignored them.

Last Thursday, it felt good to be on do not disturb in all aspects; with work, school, personal relationships and all. I even muted the dating apps! I stripped down, allowed my tears to flow and slept all day. I realized I had emotions I needed to feel, productivity I needed to put at a halt, and honestly shut down and rest. My body needed it. I’ve been at capacity, and moving forward I am holding myself accountable to paying attention to that a bit more.

Living a life of ease, patience, and rest is what I am committed to. That is a component of self-care and self-love is for me.

What did Savannah (Whitney Houston) say in Waiting to Exhale? “Hell, my body needs this.” I felt Savannah on the level she was coming from, but in this context, I’m speaking rest.

It’s Sunday evening and I am basking in my rest and pleasures. I have a glass of dry red wine, chocolate covered cashews, and Jumping the Broom is playing as background noise. I’ve shared my current read below, and I have found that reading throughout the week has added a switch up to my daily routine.

I encourage you to find something simple to switch up your weekly routines to avoid burnout. Maybe make a fun to-do list that relates to things that you find enjoyable, things you can mix into your daily work and pleasure habits. Find time for YOU and REST.

Take care.

Current read: WILL - Memoir by Will Smith

Would you all like my weekly reads? My writing playlists? Leave a comment below, let me know.

Heather J.

Free Mind: Small Progress is Progress

Free Mind.

The thoughts that were going through my mind this morning were thoughts of gratitude and adoration for self. True appreciation and comfort for self.

I’m so fucking proud of ME.

After my self-massage out of the shower, I looked at myself in the mirror and spoke those words to myself, I really meant it. I focused on who I was in that exact moment, the space surrounding me and who was looking at. I reflected on this past week. A smile appeared, I laughed. I am proud of me.

I don’t tell myself that enough.

The small steps toward my own healing and growth make me proud; I am able to recognize my own progress. This past Wednesday, I was able to be honest with myself in a session with my psychiatrist about a particular situation that recently transpired. After a helpful suggestion, I responded by saying out loud “my emotional maturity about that isn’t where it needs to be right now.” You may read this and think it’s simple. It’s not. It was not easy admitting that out loud, but when I did, I was honest. That is what really mattered to me in that moment. The ability to be honest, receive feedback, and remind myself that it may take some time to get me there. So until I am there, I was encouraged to spend time with that feeling. Not having an immediate solution works well for me. Also, with this situation and in that moment what was most helpful and rewarding to me was identifying and acknowledging my emotions.

This past week, I resonated and re-posted an image seen on social media: “say it with me: I can be proud of myself and want more for myself at the same damn time” (MichellCClark). Both can be at the same time, yes. There are some days I struggle with the latter more than others and find myself drowning in thoughts of comparison. I can be honest and say that. But even wanting more for myself can be areas of growth on the internal work I’m doing.

Focusing on gratitude, while reflecting intentionally has served such a great purpose. I am not in the same space I was at the start of 2021. For that, I am beyond grateful. The amount of growth, lessons, laughter, tears and new forming spaces has opened my eyes up to be grateful each morning I wake up. In my yawning, scrolling, aching, and morning routines, I find a new meaning in being present.

I am proud of myself for not giving up.

Even on my toughest days, I see my beautiful blessings.

My Sunday will be spent creating beautiful stories. Currently, I’m working on a few project (both short pieces and longer works). Learning to have fun with what I’m doing, embracing who I am and believing I am capable has been rewarding. I’m proud of myself for having the courage to share my work, read my work aloud. Small steps but progress.

Fearless, 2022.

2022: Fearless

Can you escape yourself when you’re alone?

I’ve tried. I feel like I’m in the middle of a beautiful chaos.

The only thing I haven’t done that Solange named in Cranes in the Sky is “sexed it away.” It has been quite some time, casual dating in Philly has been hard, ha! I could start a whole new blog on that topic alone.

2021, thank you for being that year for me. That year that made me uncomfortable and scared of the thought of being alone. Not in a romantic way at all, but in a way that I had to sit with me. I had to face me. Confronting Heather in various ways and putting myself in check was not at all easy. As this year has come to a close, it is natural for reflections to glide alongside. Throughout 2021 I’ve made some mistakes, some decisions I’ve questioned and I have sat with an enormous amount of both pain & grief. With that, I’ve also experienced great amounts of gratitude and I’ve been able to see happiness while in the midst of both pain and grief. All things can exist in the same.

Experiencing one of the toughest transitions thus far in my life has also been one of the loneliest. I’ve had time to transparently sit with the thought “this has been tough.” I can name that and admit it has been tough. Moving during a pandemic has been extremely hard. It was one thing experiencing the pandemic while living in Atlanta with a community (friends), my dog Ava, and familiar places where I felt safe. Since living in Philadelphia, I have found it challenging to make friends (making friends as an adult already comes with its challenges), indulge in things I enjoy, and overall just adapting to a new lifestyle, quickly.

In a previous post, I shared my acceptance of being okay with the termination of phases in my life. The truth is though, it isn’t easy. I didn’t expect it to be easy, but the stretching, growing, aching and everything that comes along with change hit hard this past year. I purposely avoided season 5 of Insecure because it’s all too familiar. The space I’ve been in, I am sure the tears would’ve been non-stop each Sunday evening. I’ve been able to avoid some spoilers and I’ll get around to watching it soon.

On the outside, family and friends saw me beginning a new adventure in life. I packed up everything I owned and moved to Philly. I started my MFA in Creative Writing at Temple University, said no to things that were no longer working for me, and honestly, opted for something different. Going after my dreams had a new meaning for me, right before 30. You can change your mind at any time, I did just that. But the reality is, it has been lonely.

Inside, what you all didn’t see, was how bad I have been hurting this past year.

Transitioning from a full-time career, and taking a leap of FAITH came with quite a bit. The loss of meaningful relationships hit hard this year. My loneliness caused by the pandemic heightened. I questioned every decision I made. The fear of missing out crept up some of my gloomiest days. Grief still visits me on days I think I am over some friendships I lost this year.

There is beauty in not having everything figured out. For that, I will never complain.

God has kept me this year. New relationships have formed in my life, and I’ve nourished them with the strength in which I can. Meaning, I have tried to be kind to myself and not push past my limits.

2021,

I vowed to put myself first.

2022,

I am putting myself first without the fear of shame or guilt.

Each year, I choose a word that I intentionally focus on, meditate on, and lead with. One thing I am truly committed to doing is believing that I am deeply deserving of the things I desire.

My word for 2021: WORTHY

But I still allowed fear to lead me. Why? Because I didn’t believe I was capable. I questioned almost every blessing presented to me. I believed I was worthy but still allowed imposter syndrome to creep up and haunt me.

I’m done living in fear.

2022: FEARLESS

Scripture: Therefore I say to you, whatever things you ask when you pray, believe that you receive them, and you will have them. - Mark 11:24

Romantic Single: Love Languages

Deeply thinking about how I give and receive love.

I love all things romance.

I don’t believe in love at first sight, but I do believe in right person, wrong timing? Maybe? Or the value in experiencing someone during a particular chapter in one’s story? I’ve recently watched some amazing Black love stories that have supported my thoughts in this sentiment which I go back & forth with (next blog post).

I love, love.

I simply love romance. Within any experience, whether it’s self-love, intimate, platonic. I enjoy cultivating a connection of care, appreciation and vulnerability. Experiencing honesty, sharing warm linens with someone the morning after, legs connected at the thighs. Can you tell you I love deep-descriptive engagements? Poetry? Notable mention, a shared space of silence between myself and another is deeply appreciated. I love novels, fine champagne, classic Black silk robes, jazz music, Pinot Noir, French cuisine, fresh bouquets of red roses, Black love.

I enjoy intimacy, self-luxurious activities. I enjoy experiences. I enjoy kind and gentle partners.

I enjoy sex.

I’m currently enjoying and embracing my single journey. My deepest love during this time is for my creative art. My characters develop each day. I find comfort in beginning new freshly blank journals. I can honestly say, I catch flights often and occasionally catch feelings, both can exist LOL. I’m in a space of maturity and self-awareness to engage in casual sex with shared communication of healthy boundaries established up front. I absolutely love things that make me feel both present and alive.

All these things can be true, be present, and have my desired love languages involved; in both receiving and giving.

For Self-Love

I absolutely love spending time with myself. My top love language for self-love is Quality Time, through and through. I drown myself in ways I find luxurious, beautiful pleasuring. I take myself on some of the best dates if I must say so myself. My time is spent intentionally doing activities that I find enjoyable escaping whatever reality may be true to enjoy the moment. Grasping onto moments where I can stay present, enjoying myself and loving on myself gently.

One of my favorite ways to spend time with myself is taking myself to dinner and a movie. I usually begin each week with a brand new beautiful bouquet of flowers, intentional journaling time (Sunday Love Notes), and my selected day of the week where I will plan my date night. Depending on the week (and budget) I’ll plan multiple activities. I never regret spending time with myself and giving myself what I want and need. I don’t deny myself the pleasure I need, that’s in any aspect or form. I appreciate well thought out intentionally time with myself.

For Receiving Love

Being a writer I am in love with thoughtful word exchange. Words of Affirmation is my language in receiving love, which can be shown in many forms for me. I am truly appreciative of a written word exchange and melt at verbal word exchange. Receiving a written note, a card in the mail or even a post-it note left in one of the many places I’d find it. Can you tell I’ve done this before?

This love language for sure is best appreciated with action, but knowing that I am appreciated and can indulge in a conversation about that appreciation does something for me. I am still one who appreciates written letters full of expression.

My friends STILL receive letters and cards from me outside of special occasions.

For Giving Love

You express to me what you may need? You’re vulnerable enough to share what would be most helpful during a difficult time? If I’m a guest in your home or invited to any family outing, I often struggle with being “just a guest.” I give love in Acts of Service. I pride myself in being a great listener, strong communicator and one who is willing to adjust and correct where needed, but with listening I also honor the ways in which I can make someone else’s journey lighter.

Acts of Service is something I truly value in my friendships and relationships. In expression, and on the receiving end. Being an educator, I’ve always valued my communicative relationships with others and being in service.

Sharing any space with anyone I’m always focusing on multiple aspects of peace, appreciation and service.

Reflective Spaces

When taking the love languages quiz, I deeply reflect on the statements and apply them to where I am currently. The fact that they have one for singles was helpful, Lol. I think my languages have definitely changed over time based on experiences, reflections and most certainly discomfort during the pandemic, career change and change of focus in various areas.

I’m deeply flawed.

I’ve experienced many environments, relationships and ever-changing friendships that have allowed my way of thinking and expectations of reciprocity to shift.

The love I have for myself within continuously grows stronger as the days pass. Therapy has aided in a healthy way to shaping my views of self-love.

Current Reads:

Seven Days in June by Tia Williams

While We Were Dating by Jasmine Guillory

Pussy Prayers by Black Girl Bliss

Until next time.

Heather.

Express Yourself: A Sunday Journal Note

This morning as I watched the sun rise, a color of burnt sienna, I played what felt like a never-ending game of a tussle with my sheets. Waking up from a beautifully vivid dream, sleeping in peace was a place I wanted to stay. This still quiet Sunday morning I laid in bed much later than usual which was met with an abundant feeling a gratitude.

Expressing gratitude verbally aloud to myself is a practice I became more intentional with in my 29th year.

Waking up in my 30th year is a blessing.

Understanding more of who I am, what my wants and needs are, while navigating change has been a transformative journey within itself. As I am still celebrating my birthday weekend, I am in a place of peace, stillness and rest. I’ve experienced my own luxury which includes many books, red wine, comfortable silence, fine dining, journaling and tears. Yes, the evening of my birthday, the tears just flowed. I didn’t even try to mask the feeling of being untrue to anything other than what was present.

For the past few weeks I’ve been grieving change, loss of friendships, transitions, out with the old, my own recognizable personal changes and a series of feelings that have overstayed their welcome. The morning of my birthday, I was truly grateful to see yet another year, messages from loves ones and begin a new chapter, a new decade, in a new city with a new perspective. Throughout the day, my thoughts were on go.

We must accept that things change, people change, and often, we can get so caught up in our personal tornados that we forget to appreciate the beauty within the change, transformation and termination of things.

I’m growing to become okay with the termination of phases in my life.

To my thirty-year old self, I want to remind you:

That it is okay to experience multiple feelings at once. Allow your feelings to show up, greet you how they may and stay for however long they need to. To feel is to be human, to allow your feelings to spend time with you grants you the opportunity for understanding. When you allow yourself to feel, you are acknowledging a part of yourself that wants to be recognized, she deserves the space.

Don’t minimize your accomplishments because others may feel intimidated by them. For a long time, you’ve allowed others the space to project their fears and insecurities onto you, not anymore. Continue to strive for what it is that YOU seek, don’t allow anyone else to do that. As you continue to navigate your way, try new things, fail at new things.

Express yourself in your art. Write what you desire.

Every relationship or friendship doesn’t need closure. The grief you are coming face-to-face with may need acceptance, grace and even time to simply pass. Remember that relationships aren’t possessions, they are experiences. You deserve to experience what once was, what is now and who you are growing to be through your own personal healing and satisfaction. In various aspects, what is meant to be, will be. Show up for yourself, forgive yourself. You’ve accepted the fact that you aren’t perfect, so live.

Therapy has been a tremendous growing space for you, continue with it. I encourage you to reach new levels of honesty, face what you fear and allow therapy to hold you accountable. Address the issues you have with yourself, in a bold manner. The nurturing relationship you have with therapy, continue to hold it at your standard to strengthen your mental health and be in partnership with your self-awareness and emotional intelligence.

Be honest about the things you enjoy. Be honest about the things that bring you pleasure, satisfaction, joy and essentially peace.

Heather what are those things?

I love, love.

I love romance, experiencing honesty, sharing warm linens with someone, legs connected underneath. As the sun rays may creep through slightly cracked blinds the morning after, a shared space of silence is appreciated. I love romance novels, fine champagne, Black silk robes, jazz music, red wine, smoked gouda.

I enjoy intimacy, self-luxurious activities. I enjoy experiences.

I enjoy sex.

I enjoy freedom.

Heather, make sure you allow yourself the space, time and fulfillment to enjoy these things every chance you get. Take more chances on yourself.

Just because you can carry the load, doesn’t mean you should have to. Over time, you’ve learned the true benefit of asking for help, setting pride aside to be honest with yourself and others when help is needed in various aspects. Please, no longer harm yourself in physical, emotional and mental aspects to prove it can be done. Allow others to show up for you.

Vulnerability is also strength. You’ve learned to become empowered by your story, your journey and those who choose to continuously choose to see the authenticity within you. Reflect on where you feel the safest, your most authentic, where is your mental health and peace most respected?

This is just a short note that I comprised as I was reflective on what gratitude has looked like for me these past few weeks, turning into months. Expressing my thoughts and feelings during a time of all my emotions sharing what I like to describe as a dinner table, has been helpful in seeing the beauty in transition and change.

At this new beginning, I am understanding that I am both a soft and strong woman with a deep appreciation of authentic feelings. Being able to navigate with a beautiful heart, allowing myself to feel and experience the natural joys of life is truly something I am looking forward to expanding.

I’m welcoming this new decade with an abundance of gratitude. I’m going to allow my expectations to be exceeded by choosing faith over fear. My ability to become more self-aware is vital as I make conscious decisions that are conducive to my growth.

Hello 30.

Heather J.

Replenish

How do you begin to heal the parts of yourself that are screaming to be free?

The parts of yourself that are seeping through your surface of delicacy with a bitter aroma, that sweet juices are unable to balance out? When does the part of yourself that wants inner peace begin to set accountable boundaries for change?

Go back to your origin story.

The story that you effortlessly began writing before your ability to see your desires clearly were damaged. For quite some time, an uncomfortable chapter in my life allowed me to be in an unfamiliar place where feelings of doubt, inadequacy and exhaustion were in control.

As my story is continuing to be written, still with many errors and cliff hangers, I’ve developed a stronger desire to indulge in what brings me pleasure, a sense of clarity and overall joy. Two weeks before my birthday, feelings have not yet set in that I made the bold decision to choose myself. I’ve been an individual on an indifferent pathway, often alone, that comes with its pros and cons. There has been this constant thrill in my life, that has afforded me many desirable experiences.

I am enjoying myself effortlessly, even though my milestone at this age may look a bit different than others within my community. My perspective on my writing, need for captivating pleasure, and peace of mind are priorities within my life during this chapter.

Time is unfolding and my pages are being written with the courage to set better boundaries with myself. Revisiting old thoughts, old feelings and releasing old habits will aid in my process to move forward. The power that comes along with setting better boundaries is an inner feeling that protects my well-being.

I begin my mornings with solitude, stillness and thoughts of intimacy. The kind of intimacy that awakens my soul, creates beautiful imagery in my mind and allows me to escape for seconds that transition into silent minutes.

I am replenishing intimacy with myself.

Water and natural oils roll off my structure, I study it as I begin to affirm the places dissociated from the rest. My continued exploration of self allows me to reexamine my wants and needs; my ability to be delicate and loving is shown in the rhythm of my fingertips. Our time together is uninterrupted, listening is intentionally is balanced as kind words are transmitted at a frequency attainable.

When I close my eyes and visit my favorite place, I am taken to a destination of luxury. A destination that includes rest, patience, books and all the sexual fantasies one could name. In my dreams is where my destination of luxury often visits me, but now I am visualizing it in the present form. I am surrounded by large bodies of water and souls that allow freedom and comfort to transcend between our connection.

“Within the celebration of the erotic in all our endeavors, my work becomes a conscious decision a long-for bed which I enter gratefully and from which I rise up empowered.”

— The Erotic as Power, Audre Lorde (1978)

The distant relationship between my pen and journal pages have met again. The distant relationship between the two was causing a silent disruption in my own life and my comfort was stifled. Creativity is a fuel that drives many of my pleasures in this life.

During this time of replenishing, it is my goal to sit with my work, sit with my joy and allow time and space to guide me. I think releasing the need to control but experiencing life as it comes has truly had a benefit in how I engage with myself (and others), which has made for more genuine connection in my life.

My origin story allows me to unfold organically and abundantly. It is only when I am honest with myself where I can fully grasp onto what I am missing and what needs to be replenished.

Replenishing my days with intentional rest is a continued priority for me. I am entering into a chapter where the need for both joy and peace must exist for me to feel a a sense of home. I desire to journey through a space where my creativity is not hindered by self-doubt and fear.

Chapter 30: Replenish

Patience: A Sunday Journal Note

taken from my journal:

I decided to spend time with patience this morning.

What is your favorite day of the week and why is it Sunday? For me, Sunday feels like the opportunity to reset intentionally when other days I often feel rushed and disingenuous with my intentionality.

The relationship with patience and I can be a bit imbalanced. I often find myself allowing the acceptance of patience to creep in and settle. Having patience with myself has been quite challenging lately and the thought of being patient during my current season has been coupled with worry and anxiety.

While experiencing the feeling of serenity, fear will then come along and my present self feels the need to rush past the feeling of calm, stillness and patience. I’ve often struggled with just letting things be.

Every day, I am choosing to nurse my wounds, sit with discomfort, allow myself to grieve and heal in my own timing. As time passes, I’m learning more about grief as I read about the subject and I’ve been able to identify the stages in which I’m in with grief. I am allowing myself to grieve feelings I don’t fully accept and grieve the loss of connections.

Increasing patience with myself is the goal.

I’ve made the commitment to embrace Sunday JOY.

Sunday Joy is simply allowing myself GRACE. It’s filling in wide spaces of puzzling thoughts with patience, allowing it to stay. It’s embracing peace and stillness.

For me, it’s allowing the sun to creep upon me in the most subtle way possible, the stillness in my bedroom to cause me to reflect and my personal views of self-care to be expanded. Sunday Joy includes smiles, tears, laughter, reflection and even thoughts of growth; its my personal space to elevate myself in the best way possible.

Simply a form of being.

Allowing patience to be present.