Then there are seasons when you’re too engrossed in living it.

Lately, I’ve been living.

My Substack has been a bit quieter than I had anticipated, not because I’ve run out of things to say. If you know me, you know that’s highly unlikely. Life has simply been overwhelming.

It’s been filled with work, responsibilities, school, and constant contemplation about the future. I’ve been having deep conversations with myself about money, purpose, rest, relationships, home, career, and the kind of life I envision for myself.

Amidst all this busyness, something quieter has been happening.

I’ve been becoming more comfortable with myself.

Not the future version of me, but the woman I am right now.

Perhaps that has been one of the most profound lessons of this season.

I Don’t Want to Rush Through My Own Life

I’ve always been a goal-oriented woman.

There’s always something I’m working toward, planning, or dreaming about. And I love that about myself.

However, ambition can be a tricky thing if you’re not careful.

You can spend so much time looking ahead that you barely notice the preset moment.

I’ve had to remind myself lately:

This part of my life is important too.

The ordinary mornings, quiet Sundays, home-cooked dinners, laughter with loved ones, rest, and even scrolling Instagram when I could be doing something “productive” all count.

Because a fulfilling life isn’t solely defined by accomplishments.

Sometimes, a good life appears wonderfully ordinary.

I’m Learning That Rest Doesn’t Have to Be Earned

This realization has taken some effort.

For a long time, productivity made me feel responsible. If I was working, helping, planning, fixing, organizing, studying, or taking care of something, I felt like I was fulfilling my purpose.

However, lately, I’ve been learning to sit down and relax.

I mean, really sit down.

Without mentally creating another to-do list.

Without convincing myself that I should be doing something else.

Without feeling guilty because the world is still turning and I’ve decided to rest anyway.

I’m beginning to understand that rest isn’t something we earn after exhausting ourselves.

Sometimes, rest is simply part of taking good care of the life we’ve been given.

I’m Thinking Differently About What’s Next

As I approach the end of a chapter I’ve worked incredibly hard for, I’ve been naturally thinking about what comes next.

Career.

Purpose.

Impact.

Financial security.

Travel.

Home.

The kind of work I want to wake up excited to do.

There was a time when uncertainty about the future made me anxious.

Now, I’m trying something different.

I’m preparing without panicking.

I’m planning without trying to control every outcome.

I’m doing my part while leaving room for life and God to surprise me.

That’s growth for me.

I’m Becoming More Intentional

I’ve also been looking closely at the practical aspects of my life.

How I spend my money.

How I save.

What deserves my time and energy.

What doesn’t anymore.

I’m realizing that the life I dream about won’t be created through big, dramatic decisions.

It will be built through small choices made consistently.

One deposit.

One boundary.

One application.

One workout.

One quiet morning.

One “no.”

One brave “yes.”

One decision at a time.

There’s something deeply empowering about realizing that you don’t have to transform your entire life by Friday.

You just have to keep choosing in the direction you want to go.

And Maybe That’s Where I’ve Been

So, if you’ve wondered where I’ve been lately, I haven’t disappeared.

I’ve been living.

I’ve been completing tasks, starting new ones, dreaming, resting, planning, learning, laughing, praying, making mistakes, correcting my course, and gradually becoming increasingly grateful for the woman sitting right here in the midst of it all.

I used to believe that becoming meant constantly striving for a better version of myself. However, I’ve come to realize that becoming also involves learning to recognize and accept who you are.

It’s about looking at the woman you are today and acknowledging that you’re not finished, not perfect, and not without areas for growth. But here you are, whole, growing, and worthy of enjoying the life you’re building.

So, that’s life lately. It’s not perfectly packaged or tied up with a beautiful bow. It’s simply a woman learning that she doesn’t have to wait for everything to fall into place to love the life she’s living. And perhaps you don’t either.

Until our next porch conversation,

Nikki ♥️

23 days until 49, this year has moved faster than I ever imagined.

This morning, I was sitting at my desk with a cup of coffee, making my way through emails when one from Jay Shetty caught my attention. I’ve subscribed to The Daily Wisdom for  some time, but lately I’ve been slowing down enough to actually read it instead of simply skimming past it.

The first thing I saw was a quote from Eleanor Roosevelt:

“Do one thing every day that scares you.”

It stopped me.

I found myself asking, When was the last time I did something that truly scared me?

Not the everyday kind of stress. Not the responsibilities we all carry. I mean the kind of thing that stretches you, changes you, asks you to become someone you’ve never been before.

I honestly couldn’t remember.

Somewhere between work, responsibilities, healing, and simply surviving life, it’s easy to forget that we’re still allowed to do things for ourselves, even the things that make our hearts race.

Jay followed that quote with a simple question:

What is the thing holding you back from doing the thing?

For me, the answer came almost immediately.

Fear of failure.

For so many years, I’ve believed courage belonged to fearless people. But I’m beginning to understand that courage isn’t the absence of fear. It’s the willingness to move anyway.

Healing has taught me that growth rarely feels comfortable. The very thing we’re avoiding is often the thing that’s preparing us for the next chapter of our lives.

Sometimes courage looks like speaking up for yourself.

Sometimes it looks like setting a boundary.

Sometimes it looks like ending an unhealthy habit.

Sometimes it simply looks like taking one faithful step into the unknown.

As I sat with those thoughts, I realized my “one thing” isn’t starting a business or making some dramatic leap.

My one thing is much quieter.

It’s choosing to stop carrying tomorrow’s burdens today.

My job is not to worry.

My job is to prepare, to heal, and to remain open.

I’m learning that peace isn’t a reward I receive after I’ve accomplished enough or finally figured life out. Peace is a choice I have to make while I’m becoming the woman God created me to be.

Today, I can honestly say something I couldn’t always say before:

I know that I am safe.

I know that I am loved

I trust the timing of my life.

I believe I deserve good things—not because I’ve earned them, but because God delights in giving good gifts.

My future is filled with purpose, meaningful work, abundance, and a community of people who love deeply and are loved in return.

The beautiful thing is…my life is already good.

I’m not waiting for goodness to find me.

I’m simply waiting for the next beautiful chapter.

Lately, one word keeps coming back to me:

Contentment.

There’s something incredibly freeing about laying down chaos and picking up contentment. It doesn’t mean life is perfect. It means I’ve stopped believing I have to chase peace. I can choose it today.

I’ve also learned that more than one thing can be true at the same time.

I can be deeply grateful for where I am while still feeling excited about where God is leading me.

I can honor my past without living there.

I can dream boldly while appreciating today’s blessings.

Before I close, I want to say something to the little girl still living inside me.

You’re going to make it.

Everything you’ve survived wasn’t wasted.

One day you’ll look around at your life, take a deep breath, and realize you’re finally becoming the woman you once needed.

And to the woman I am today…

Thank you.

Thank you for exhaling.

Thank you for slowing down enough to enjoy the journey instead of rushing toward the destination.

As my pastor often says, “Nothing missing. Nothing broken.”

I’m holding onto that truth.

I’ll continue to grow.

I’ll continue to prepare.

I’ll continue to trust.

I’ll continue to heal.

Because what belongs in my life will arrive in the right season.

And when it does…

It will be beautiful.

Until next time, keep healing, keep hoping, keep trusting God’s timing… and remember, there’s always a seat waiting for you on the porch. 🌻

Not just the energy they bring into a room, but the stories beneath it. The heaviness behind a smile. The guardedness behind silence. The exhaustion hidden in plain sight.

And it has led me to a humbling truth: we are all healing, but we are not all healing from the same things.

Some people are healing from abandonment.

Some are healing from betrayal.

Some are healing from financial hardship, childhood wounds, grief, disappointment, rejection, or years of simply surviving.

And because our wounds are different, our healing journeys look different too.

The woman who seems distant may be learning how to trust again.

The friend who suddenly chooses solitude may finally be resting after years of pouring into everyone else.

The person who protects their peace may not be selfish at all, they may simply be tired of carrying things that were never theirs to carry.

Healing changes your energy.

It changes the way you respond.

It changes the rooms you can tolerate, the conversations you entertain, and the people you allow close to your heart.

Sometimes healing makes you softer.

Sometimes it makes you quieter.

Sometimes it makes you walk away from things you once begged God to keep.

And all of those versions are okay.

I think one of the greatest acts of maturity is learning not to take everyone’s energy personally.

Everyone you meet is carrying something.

Everyone is fighting battles that may not be visible to the eye.

The coworker who seems irritated.

The mother who seems overwhelmed.

The friend who no longer shows up the same way.

The stranger who appears cold.

You simply never know what chapter of healing someone is currently living in.

As someone who will soon be working in public health, I often think about healing beyond the physical body. Communities heal. Families heal. Relationships heal. Generations heal.

Trauma leaves fingerprints not only on individuals but on entire communities. Stress, grief, poverty, instability, and loss all shape how people move through the world and the energy they bring into it.

Perhaps this is why compassion matters so much.

Meeting people where they are does not mean accepting harmful behavior, but it does mean recognizing that everyone is trying to find their way back to themselves.

I know my own energy has shifted.

I no longer desire constant chaos or proving myself.

I crave peace.

I crave genuine friendships.

I crave conversations that nourish my soul.

I crave spaces where I can simply be.

Because healing has taught me that protecting your energy is not selfish, it is necessary.

As we continue becoming who we are meant to be, may we give ourselves permission to heal at our own pace.

May we stop comparing our journeys to others.

May we release the expectation that everyone should understand our process.

And may we remember to extend grace, because every person we encounter is carrying a story we know nothing about.

The truth is, we are all trying to return home to ourselves.

And that journey looks different for everyone.

Recently, I’ve been pondering the essence of wealth.

Not in terms of finances, though there’s nothing wrong with striving for a comfortable life. I’m referring to the wealth that truly sustains us, the kind that helps us endure tough times and enhances the joy of good times.

With age, I’ve realized that genuine wealth lies in our relationships.

It’s the friend who reaches out just to see how you’re doing. The neighbor who gives a friendly wave from across the street. The church member who notices your absence. The family gathered around a dinner table sharing stories, laughter, and sometimes even tears.

As a public health student, I’ve discovered that health is influenced by much more than medical visits, prescriptions, and hospital stays. Ongoing research shows that social connections, a sense of belonging, and supportive relationships significantly impact our well-being. Loneliness and isolation can harm not only our emotional hearts but also our physical health.

However, long before I learned this in a classroom, I understood it as a human being.

I’ve felt the comfort of community. I’ve been uplifted by kind words at just the right moment. I’ve been empowered by people who showed up, listened, prayed, checked in, and simply reminded me that I wasn’t alone.

That’s why I believe every meaningful table should have an empty chair.

Not because we’re expecting guests, but because someone might need a place to belong.

An empty chair encourages us to look beyond ourselves. It reminds us to notice the person standing alone, the newcomer, the struggling coworker, the elderly neighbor, or the friend who seems fine but is quietly carrying more than we know.

In a world that often equates success with accumulation, I find myself valuing something different: kindness, connection, and community.

Because the wealthiest people I know aren’t necessarily those with the most possessions. They are the ones who make room for others. They are generous with their time, patient with their words, and intentional about helping people feel seen.

The older I get, the more convinced I become that community is one of life’s greatest gifts.

So today, I hope you’ll leave an empty chair at your table not just at dinner, but in your life.

Make room for one more conversation. One more friendship. One more opportunity to extend kindness.

You never know whose life might be changed by a simple invitation.

And perhaps that’s where the real treasure has been all along: not in what we collect for ourselves, but in the connections we build and the belonging we help create for others.

After all, community may be the vehicle, but belonging is the destination.

-Nikki 💚🌳

There is something I need to tell you.

For a long time, I thought growth would feel bigger.

I thought it would arrive with fireworks and announcements. I thought healing would be obvious. I thought freedom would have a specific date attached to it.

Instead, it came quietly.

It showed up in ordinary mornings.

In choosing peace when I could have chosen chaos.

In walking away from arguments that no longer deserved my energy.

In learning that not every battle was mine to fight.

In understanding that being strong doesn’t always look like carrying everything. Sometimes it looks like putting things down.

The truth is, if you looked at my life from the outside, you might not immediately see all the roots that have been growing beneath the surface.

You wouldn’t see the years I spent questioning myself.

The disappointments.

The losses.

The seasons where I wondered if the things I prayed for would ever find their way to me.

You wouldn’t see the moments when I kept showing up while carrying more than anyone knew.

The days I smiled while my heart was tired.

The seasons I gave from empty.

The moments I sat alone wondering if all the hard work, all the faith, all the waiting would ever amount to anything.

But roots don’t grow above ground.

They grow in the dark.

They grow when nobody is applauding.

They grow when nobody is watching.

And maybe that’s why I am finally beginning to understand that some of the most important things God has done in my life happened underground.

Before confidence became visible, it was a root.

Before peace became visible, it was a root.

Before wisdom became visible, it was a root.

Before boundaries became visible, they were roots.

Before healing became visible, it was a root.

I’ve spent years believing I needed to become someone else to deserve the life I wanted.

Now I understand something different.

The woman I am becoming was never missing.

She was growing.

Slowly.

Steadily.

Faithfully.

Root by root.

Today, I don’t have all the answers.

There are still dreams I am waiting on.

There are still doors I hope will open.

There are still places I want to go and things I want to accomplish.

But for the first time in a long time, I am not living from a place of lack.

I am living from a place of expectation.

Because when I look back over my life, I see evidence everywhere.

I see prayers that were answered.

I see mountains that moved.

I see strength that appeared when I thought I had none left.

I see grace that carried me through seasons I should have never survived on my own.

And I see roots.

Deep roots.

Strong roots.

Roots that taught me how to stand.

Maybe that’s what this season is really about.

Not arriving.

Not proving.

Not performing.

Simply standing in the truth of who I have become.

A woman who has been broken and rebuilt.

A woman who has cried and kept going.

A woman who has lost things and still found reasons to hope.

A woman who believes her best days are not behind her.

A woman who understands that growth is not always loud.

Sometimes growth is choosing yourself after years of putting everyone else first.

Sometimes growth is learning that your value was never tied to what you could do for other people.

Sometimes growth is trusting God when the evidence hasn’t shown up yet.

Sometimes growth is looking in the mirror and finally seeing someone worth rooting for.

The older I get, the more I realize that blooming was never the miracle.

The roots were.

The miracle was surviving seasons that should have broken me.

The miracle was keeping my heart soft when life gave me every reason to harden it.

The miracle was continuing to believe when disappointment would have been easier.

And today, I am grateful for every hidden season.

Every delay.

Every detour.

Every lesson.

Every tear.

Because beneath the surface, something beautiful was taking shape.

Not perfection.

Not success.

Not a finished product.

Just a woman learning that she was enough all along.

And after everything life has taught me, I can finally say this with confidence:

I am no longer waiting to become her.

I am her.

And she is still growing.

Love,

Healthy Roots by Nikki 🌱

Not because of one single moment, but because several things piled up at once and left me feeling drained, stretched thin, and aware that I had been carrying more than my heart and body were meant to hold.

There were moments when I felt unseen. Moments when I felt overwhelmed. Moments when I wanted to make myself small just to escape the tension, the noise, and the kind of quiet emotional fatigue that builds little by little.

Even as I kept showing up—working, finishing what needed to be done, watering my plants, answering messages, and caring for everyday responsibilities, I could feel within myself that something needed tenderness and attention.

Because stress doesn’t just sit in the mind.
It eventually shows up in the body, too.

Sometimes we think wellness is only about what we eat, how much water we drink, or whether we exercised that day. Those things do matter, but I’m learning that true wellness also means protecting your peace, respecting your limits, and permitting yourself to let go of what is too heavy.

Sometimes healing is not about adding more to your routine, but about gently releasing what was never yours to keep carrying.

So, this week, I’ve been reflecting on some things I’m learning to put down.

I’m learning to put down overexplaining myself to people who have already decided not to understand me.

I’m learning to put down survival mode.

For a long time, I’ve lived in “just get through it” mode. But I’m learning that I deserve more than survival. I deserve gentleness. I deserve calm. I deserve a life that feels nourishing on the inside, too.

I’m learning to put down guilt for resting.

Rest is not laziness.
Rest is maintenance.
Rest is medicine.

I’m learning to put down internalizing everything around me. Every mood is not mine to carry. Every reaction is not mine to fix. Every burden is not mine to absorb.

And most importantly, I’m learning to put down the habit of pouring from an empty cup.

As someone who cares deeply about health and prevention, I know stress has real effects on the body. Ongoing stress can disrupt sleep, digestion, focus, blood pressure, inflammation, emotional eating patterns, and even blood sugar levels. I say that not just from what I’ve learned, but from what I’ve personally experienced.

Our bodies listen to the lives we are living.

That realization alone has made me more intentional about choosing peace.

So instead of carrying everything, I’m choosing slower mornings. More water. Less noise. Prayer. Boundaries. Soft music. Movement that feels good. Quiet time. Grace for myself.

I’m learning that wellness is not just what we consume.
It’s also what we release.

And maybe that’s the reminder someone else needed this week, too.

If you’ve been carrying too much emotionally, mentally, or spiritually, I hope you give yourself permission to set some of it down. Not because you’re weak, but because you are human, and you deserve peace, care, and room to breathe, too.

Healthy roots require healthy boundaries.

With love,
Nikki

Share Healthy Roots By Nikki

Hey sis,

I know you’re tired.

I know your calendar is full, your to-do list is longer than it should be, and somewhere between being a mother, a student, a caretaker, a friend, and a whole entire person, our health quietly got pushed to the back burner.

But here’s what I need you to hear today:

You do not have to do everything to do something.

And that something? It might just save your life.

🌱 Let’s get into it.

Black women are 60% more likely to be diagnosed with type 2 diabetes than non-Hispanic white women. Not because we’re doing something wrong, but because we’ve often been expected to: carry more, stress more, sleep less, and somehow still pour into everybody else first.

As women we have always found a way.

But survival should not be the only story we tell about ourselves.

Here’s the good news and I mean really good news:

Up to 80% of type 2 diabetes cases can be prevented or delayed through lifestyle changes.

Not perfection.

Not punishment.

Not an extreme diet.

Not becoming somebody else overnight.

Just small, intentional shifts.

Nuggets You Can Take With You Today

A 10-minute walk after meals can lower blood sugar more effectively than a 45-minute workout done at a random time. Ten minutes, sis. After dinner. That’s it.

Swap your drink first. Before changing everything on your plate, start with one extra glass of water each day. Dehydration makes blood sugar harder to regulate. Simple. Free. Powerful.

Sleep is a blood sugar tool. Getting less than six hours of sleep increases insulin resistance. Protecting your sleep is protecting your health. Bedtime is self-care. Full stop.

Stress raises blood sugar literally. That constant “go mode,” the tension in your shoulders, the stress you never fully process it affects your body more than you think. Breathe. Rest. Pause. On purpose.

💚 You Are the Blueprint 💚

Black women have innovated under pressure, loved through exhaustion, and shown up even when we had nothing left.

That same strength?

Turn a little of it inward.

You are not powerful because you never stop.

You are powerful because you know when to protect yourself.

Longevity is an act of resistance.

Taking care of our bodies is saying:

I plan to be here.

I plan to thrive.

I plan to enjoy every single thing this life has for me.

So today, not tomorrow, not Monday, or next week sometime, today, choose one small shift.

Just one.

A walk.

A glass of water.

An earlier bedtime.

A deep breath before responding to that text.

Small shifts.

Big protection.

You’ve got this. 🌱

Love,

Healthy Roots by Nikki 💚🍃

People are burdened with stress.

People are burdened with grief.

People are burdened with loneliness, burnout, survival mode, financial strain, childhood traumas, silent depression, and the pressure of maintaining a facade while facing daily challenges.

And honestly, it’s visible in their physical appearance.

Community health has shown me that people require support, not judgment.

They need access to resources.

They need education.

They need safe environments.

They need compassion.

They need someone who cares enough to intervene before their situation deteriorates.

It has also taught me something personal: healing extends beyond the physical.

Healing involves emotions.

Healing involves spirituality.

Healing involves mental well-being.

Healing involves learning to rest.

Healing involves learning to say no.

Healing involves recognizing that your body deserves care.

Many of the things we accept as normal are gradually damaging us:

stress, processed foods, isolation, overworking, lack of sleep, and pretending everything is fine when it’s not.

This is why Healthy Roots holds significant meaning for me.

Healthy Roots is not about achieving perfection.

It’s about reconnecting with our true selves.

The core of our health.

The core of our habits.

The core of our peace.

The core of our communities.

I’m discovering that true wellness is not merely about extending our lifespan.

It’s about enhancing our quality of life.

And perhaps healing begins the moment we finally acknowledge that we deserve it.

Nikki-

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There was a time in my life when I believed that being “okay” meant pushing through everything.

I would show up, smile, handle my responsibilities, and be strong for everyone else.

And I was good at it.

Too good.

On the outside, I appeared to have it all together, but on the inside, I was overwhelmed, emotionally drained, and quietly trying to hold myself together.

Back then, mental health wasn’t something I discussed openly. Instead, I managed it privately.

I normalized stress, overthinking, and carrying burdens that weren’t mine to bear.

To be honest, I didn’t even realize how heavy life had become until I started prioritizing peace.

Now, I’m in a different place.

I’m not perfect and haven’t healed from everything, but I’m aware.

I’ve learned that protecting my mental health involves:

- Saying no without guilt

- Walking away without explaining myself to everyone

- Taking time to sit with my thoughts instead of running from them

- Choosing calm over chaos, even when chaos feels familiar

The most significant change is that I stopped trying to be everything for everyone and started being present for myself.

This shift transformed everything.

Mental health isn’t just about the challenging days. It’s about setting boundaries on the good days, building habits when life feels normal, and choosing yourself repeatedly.

This Mental Health Awareness Month, I don’t pretend to have it all figured out.

However, I am proud of the woman I’m becoming soft, grounded, intentional, and still growing, but no longer losing myself in the process.

If you’re in a season where you’re trying to find your way back to yourself, know this:

You don’t have to carry everything anymore.

You’re allowed to feel, pause, and choose peace.

Nikki 💚

There was a time when I believed that growth had to be rapid. If I wasn’t seeing immediate results, I felt like I was doing something wrong.

However, recently, I’ve been learning something different. Growth is subtle, gradual, and intentional.

It involves choosing peace over chaos, setting boundaries without over-explaining, and sitting with oneself instead of fleeing from what requires attention.

The truth is, this kind of growth doesn’t always garner applause. Nobody claps for the days you maintain discipline or for the moments you prioritize yourself.

But that’s where the true transformation occurs.

I’ve come to understand that becoming isn’t about rushing into a new version of oneself. It’s about honoring your current state while still choosing to grow forward.

So, if you feel like you’re moving slower than you should, don’t be discouraged. You’re not behind; you’re building something genuine.

Take your time. You’re allowed to.

NSV💜💛

I’m currently in that phase. I’m not at the end of my journey or “figured out,” but I’m aware, intentional, and making different choices.

This isn’t a place for perfection. It’s a space for genuine growth. The kind that requires you to slow down, reflect on yourself, and be honest about what needs to change.

This kind of growth asks you to choose peace over chaos, discipline over comfort, and self-respect over people-pleasing.

I’m learning that femininity isn’t about being passive and accommodating to the world. It’s about being grounded within yourself. It’s about knowing when to rest, when to move, when to speak, and when to be still. It’s strength, expressed with intention.

No matter where you come from, what you look like, or what your past has been like, there’s space for you to become a better version of yourself.

This isn’t about rushing through life. It’s about choosing daily to show up differently.

This is me, becoming on purpose. And if you’re on a similar journey, you’re in the right place.