Thursday evening, I picked up my homegirl from the ferry, and we headed to Blue Restaurant to get something to eat. It was happy hour, so we ordered a little bit of everything. We wanted to hang out for a while and let the traffic lighten up before driving to Philly to pick up my cousin.

Once we got to Philly, I had to help my cousin pack because that girl was not about to bring a big-ass suitcase for only three days! 😂 I helped her make sure she had everything she needed, and then I headed straight to bed because their asses don’t know how to drive. I knew I had to be up and ready to hit the road at 4:00 Friday morning!

As the morning started, we got on the road for our very first road trip together. We sang, laughed, and played ’90s and 2000s R&B and hip-hop the entire way. We made two stops because your girl was getting sleepy. The first was a coffee stop—but while they were drinking their coffee, I was taking a little nap! The second stop was for the bathroom. But we made it safely to Virginia Beach around 10:30 a.m.

Our first stop was the hotel to see if we could check in earlier than 4:00 p.m. After that, we headed to Milk & Honey. My homegirl had been so excited to try it, and I had made us a reservation for 12:15. We arrived early to see if they could take us before our reservation, and thankfully, they did.

I ordered the fried catfish with cheese grits, my cousin had egg whites with vegetables and whole-wheat toast, and my homegirl had eggs, bacon, roasted potatoes, and a side of cheese grits. Everything was so good! Our waitress was a little off, though, and my cousin felt like she wasn’t giving us much personal space. You really had to be there to understand what we were seeing and talking about. 😂

After brunch, we parked my Jeep and headed back to the hotel to see if our room was ready. Unfortunately, it still wasn’t, so we went up to the hotel’s rooftop bar. We ordered drinks for one another, relaxed, and enjoyed the view until it was finally time to check in.

We stayed at the Hilton, and I’m not going to lie—I feel like they need to start upgrading some of their hotel rooms. Don’t get me wrong, our room was clean, but it could definitely use some updating. Once we got settled, we started getting ourselves together for our 7:00 p.m. dinner reservation.

My cousin picked a beautiful, upscale restaurant called Becca Restaurant & Garden, located inside the Historic Cavalier Hotel. The atmosphere was so nice! The food was good, although I didn’t care too much for my main meal. However, the lobster soup was fresh and delicious! My cousin and homegirl enjoyed their food, and the drinks were good too. My cousin and I also had oysters, and they were so good. My homegirl couldn’t have any, but overall, it was such a cute little vibe.

The next morning, we took an Uber to a cute coffee shop called Three Ships Coffee Roasters. My cousin said their biscuits were to die for, and the coffee was good too. Afterward, we walked around and spent some time on the boardwalk by the beach.

We were supposed to go to a winery, but I wasn’t in the mood to drive another hour—especially since my ass was the only driver! 😂 I got on their nerves the entire weekend by calling them “non-driving asses,” but they knew I was telling the truth!

To make a long story short, we also went to The Hampton Social for dinner on Saturday. The food was really good, and they even sang “Happy Birthday” to me so we could get a dessert! I acted completely surprised like it was really my birthday. 😂 We had great conversations, laughed so much, and simply enjoyed being together.

On our final morning, we had breakfast at The Pink Dinghy, and that was some good-ass breakfast! Everything came out hot, fresh, and full of flavor.

This trip was about so much more than food and beautiful places. We laughed until our stomachs hurt, had meaningful conversations, and even cried together while watching a sad movie on Netflix. We also met Joe, the man who came to fix the television in our room. He was originally from Brooklyn and was such a kind man. He told us a little about himself and said that when we return, we should ask for him so he can help us get a good deal on our room. The people we met in Virginia were so welcoming and nice.

Our first girls’ road trip wasn’t perfect, but that’s what made it so special. It was filled with laughter, good food, music, honest conversations, sleepy drives, inside jokes, and memories we’ll be talking about for years. Life gets busy, and we don’t always get the chance to slow down and enjoy the people we love. This weekend reminded me that sometimes the best thing you can do is pack a small bag, get on the road, turn up the music, and make memories with your girls.

I’m grateful we made it there and back safely, but I’m even more grateful for the bond we strengthened along the way. Here’s to our first road trip—and hopefully many more. But next time, one of their non-driving asses needs to help me drive! 😂 I’m just joking…taking the train would probably be better for all of us! 😂💕🚆

What If You Couldn’t Leave Your House?

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT: If you haven’t watched The Last House on Netflix yet, I’m talking about the ending too!

So yesterday while I was off, I stayed in the house all day. I wasn’t really in the mood to go anywhere, even though I wanted to check out the Summer Night Market in Harlem.

Thank GOD I stayed home, because when I tell you it started raining cats and dogs… lol yeah, that decision was solid.

So I’m at my uncle’s house house-sitting, just looking for something to watch, and I come across a movie on Netflix called The Last House. From the picture and description, I thought I was about to watch a good scary movie.

Baby… I was wrong.

It wasn’t really scary, it was more of a survival story, but by the end, it had me sitting there THINKING.

The story follows a normal family on a regular day until everything suddenly changes. Something outside makes it impossible for them to leave their home. Doors and windows won’t open, communication with the outside world is gone, and they have no idea when, or if, they’ll ever get out.

And one line from the movie stuck with me:

The only way out is through.

When it ended, I just sat there thinking…

What if something like this actually happened in real life?

Imagine waking up and realizing you can’t leave your house.

Not for a day.

Not for a weekend.

I’m talking WEEKS.

MONTHS.

Maybe even YEARS.

Listen…

I would not make it. lol

And the funny thing is, I actually love being home. I enjoy my peace, my couch, good food, and something to watch. I’m GOOD like that.

But there’s a big difference between choosing to stay home and being told you can’t leave.

Because after a while, boredom would be the least of your problems.

At first, it might not be too bad. You’re eating what’s in the fridge, watching movies, sleeping, playing games, and assuming someone will figure it out.

Then a few days turn into a week.

A week turns into a month.

And slowly, things start disappearing.

Fresh food is gone.

Milk, eggs, bread—gone.

And the snacks?

Oh, those are the first to go.

Now everybody’s staring into cabinets trying to stretch rice, pasta, canned beans, soup, and that one mystery can nobody remembers buying.

But when that starts running out?

Now we’re not talking boredom anymore.

We’re talking survival.

What if the water stops?

What if the power goes out?

No TV.

No internet.

Phones eventually die or become useless.

No DoorDash.

No Instacart.

No Amazon.

No quick Target runs.

No pharmacy.

Now medication is running out.

Toilet paper, soap, toothpaste, feminine products, cleaning supplies—everything you normally replace without thinking becomes precious.

And if someone gets sick?

No ER trip.

No doctor visit.

No prescription pickup.

Now it’s just the people inside trying to figure it out.

And that’s when I started thinking…

How would people change?

Because hunger, fear, and stress bring out sides of people you don’t normally see.

The calm person gets anxious.

The generous person starts hiding food.

People start eating more than their share.

Some start thinking only about themselves.

Arguments could break out over something as small as water.

Imagine four people trapped together realizing there’s only enough food left for two.

Who eats?

Who doesn’t?

Do you split it evenly?

Do kids eat first?

The elderly?

The sick?

Would you give up your portion for someone you love?

And let’s talk about being trapped with PEOPLE.

Your mom.

Dad.

Kids.

Partner.

Friends.

Coworkers.

Or imagine it starts while you’re AT WORK?!

BABY!!!

Wherever you are when it happens… that’s where you’re stuck.

Imagine looking at the coworker who already gets on your nerves and thinking:

“So it’s me and you for the next three years?”

Absolutely not.

Because being stuck with people that long would expose EVERYTHING.

Old issues.

Communication problems.

Small habits you usually ignore.

Resentment.

Fear.

Selfishness.

Patience.

Love.

Loyalty.

You’d quickly see who stays calm and who falls apart.

And let me be honest…

If I was stuck with my family? At first it would be fun. We’d laugh, eat, talk crazy, make the best of it.

But after weeks… or months?

Oh nah.

We would definitely start getting on each other’s nerves.

Somebody would say something slick.

Somebody would slam a cabinet.

Somebody would need “space” from everybody.

It would go from “this is kinda fun” to “who just breathed too loud?” real quick.

But being alone wouldn’t be easier either.

Imagine months or years with nobody else.

No hugs.

No conversations.

No laughter from another person.

Just you and your thoughts.

That’s a different kind of survival.

Because now you’re not just trying to keep your body alive…

You’re trying to keep your mind alive too.

You’d need routines just to stay sane.

Exercise.

Read.

Write.

Pray.

Cook whatever you have.

Find ways to laugh.

Find something—ANYTHING—to look forward to.

And every morning you’d probably think:

Maybe today’s the day the door opens.

And it doesn’t.

A month passes.

Six months.

A year.

At some point… do you even keep counting?

That’s what made me think about real life.

We already got a small taste of this with COVID.

One day life was normal: work, travel, restaurants, family, everything.

Then suddenly:

Stay home.

Some people adjusted.

Some struggled mentally.

Some relationships got stronger.

Some fell apart.

Some people found new hobbies.

Some started businesses.

Some realized they actually liked being alone.

And others realized they needed people more than they thought.

It showed us something we forget:

We don’t appreciate normal until it’s taken away.

And that’s why The Last House stuck with me.

After years trapped, the family learns how to survive, growing food, adapting, dealing with sickness, fear, and uncertainty.

Then they finally get a chance to fight the creature they believe caused everything.

But Jason chooses mercy.

He lets it go.

And that moment changes everything.

The creature opens the door.

After all those years…

They’re free.

The movie never fully explains why it all happened, which makes it even more unsettling. The creatures aren’t clearly just monsters, and the reason the families were trapped is left unanswered.

So they spent years believing something outside was the enemy… only for mercy, not violence, to be what finally set them free.

That part stayed with me.

Because life is like that sometimes.

We spend so much time fighting things we don’t understand.

Fighting change.

Fighting fear.

Fighting what we can’t control.

But sometimes the lesson isn’t about defeating what’s in front of you.

It’s about how you respond to it.

Maybe “the only way out is through” means you can’t always escape discomfort.

Sometimes you have to live through it.

Learn through it.

Grow through it.

And come out different on the other side.

It also made me appreciate the small things:

Food in the fridge.

Clean water.

Hot showers.

A charged phone.

Running errands.

Stepping outside whenever I want.

Calling somebody and saying, “I’m on my way.”

We treat those things like nothing because they’re always there.

But take them away?

You realize how rich normal life really is.

So maybe the real lesson is:

Appreciate your freedom while you have it.

Take the walk.

See your people.

Travel.

Laugh.

Love.

Enjoy your home, but don’t forget you can leave it whenever you want.

And learn to be okay with yourself, because life can trap you in situations you didn’t choose.

Sometimes…

The only way out really is through.

But listen…

I thought I was just watching a movie to pass time.

Next thing I know, I’m on my uncle’s couch questioning my entire survival skill set.

And after thinking about no food, no water, no Target, no Amazon, no brunch, no vacations, and being stuck with people for YEARS…

I’ve made my decision.

Baby, somebody better OPEN THAT DOOR.

It is difficult when someone you love deeply teaches you lessons through distance, silence, judgment, and disappointment. The relationship may feel different now, even though, when you really think about it, it has probably been this way for as long as you can remember. The only real difference is that you are older now. Your mindset has changed, your eyes are open, and you can finally recognize things for what they are.

You begin to notice the judgment hidden inside certain words. You notice when support feels forced, when jealousy appears during moments that should be celebrated, and when your accomplishments are minimized instead of acknowledged. You notice how someone can try so hard to be a better mother to somebody else’s child, while making their own child feel invisible—as though you do not exist or your feelings do not matter.

Sometimes there is no thank-you for the hard work you put into creating something meaningful, something that person may never have had the courage or opportunity to do themselves. There is no recognition, no encouragement, and no credit given. And even though you do not do things only to receive praise, it still hurts when you constantly feel unappreciated by someone whose support should come naturally.

There are moments when you want to speak up and finally say everything that has been sitting inside of you. But then you sit back, observe, and remind yourself that not every truth needs to become an argument. Sometimes keeping quiet is not weakness. Sometimes it is wisdom. You take notes, protect your peace, and allow people’s actions to show you exactly who they are.

You have worked too hard on yourself to let the same pain continue controlling you. What once bothered you deeply no longer has the same power. Instead of chasing understanding, approval, or affection, you simply create distance. You stay away when necessary, set silent boundaries, and keep the peace, not because you do not care, but because you have finally learned to care about yourself too.

Growing up is realizing that you can love someone deeply and still accept that they may never love, understand, or appreciate you in the way you deserve. You can forgive without forgetting. You can respect them without allowing them full access to you. And you can choose peace, even when part of you still wishes the relationship could have been different.

Sometimes healing is not fixing the relationship.

Sometimes healing is finally seeing it clearly and no longer blaming yourself for what was missing.

The real issue isn’t that they ghosted you.

And it’s not even that they came back.

The real issue is what happened inside of you while they were gone.

Did their silence make you question your worth?

Did their absence convince you that you weren’t enough?

Did you spend days replaying conversations, wondering what you did wrong, while they went on living their life?

Then one day they reappear with an apology, an excuse, or just enough attention to reopen a wound that was finally beginning to heal.

And because a part of you still longs to be chosen, you let them back in.

Not because you’ve forgotten the pain…

But because you’re hoping this time will be different.

I’ve been that person.

I’ve been the one who welcomed him back after he ghosted me like nothing ever happened. No real apology. No accountability. Just some weak excuse about being “busy,” “going through something,” or wanting to “see how I’ve been.”

Looking back now, I realize something.

Most of the time, they didn’t come back because they suddenly realized my worth.

They came back because whatever, or whoever, they chose over me didn’t work out. Maybe the relationship wasn’t what they thought it would be. Maybe they got lonely. Maybe things fell apart. So they circled back to the person they believed would always leave the door unlocked.

For a long time…

That person was me.

And I’ll be honest.

My ass was dumb as hell.

Not because I lacked intelligence, but because I hadn’t learned my worth yet.

I confused giving people another chance with loving them.

I thought being understanding made me a good person, when really, I was teaching people they could disappear, come back whenever it was convenient, and I’d still be there waiting.

That wasn’t love.

That was a lack of boundaries.

As I began healing and doing the work on myself, I finally woke the hell up.

I realized not everyone deserves access to the new version of me.

Now, I don’t let men, friends, or even family members roll back into my life like nothing ever happened.

If you hurt me, disappeared, disrespected me, or treated me like I didn’t matter, don’t expect me to pretend it never happened just because you’ve decided to come back.

And honestly…

I don’t even want an apology anymore.

Some people think closure comes from hearing the words, “I’m sorry.”

I’ve learned that closure comes from accepting who people have shown themselves to be and choosing my own peace anyway.

These days, I don’t argue.

I don’t chase.

I don’t beg for explanations.

Most of the time, I don’t even respond.

And if protecting my peace means blocking someone because they’ve crossed a line I refuse to let them cross again, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.

Not out of bitterness.

Not out of revenge.

But out of self-respect.

Because I’ve learned that peace and dignity are worth protecting.

Maybe the real issue isn’t why they keep coming back.

Maybe the real issue is why we keep believing they’ll become someone they’ve never shown us they can be.

Healing taught me that forgiveness doesn’t always require reconnection.

You can forgive someone…

…and still refuse to give them access to your life.

Because access to me is no longer automatic.

It’s earned.

And not everyone who walks away deserves the privilege of walking back in.

There are moments in life that don’t quite feel real until you’re standing in them.

Tomorrow is one of those moments.

Tomorrow, my first book, Mirrors of Me: Learning Who I Am Through Love and Life, will officially be released into the world.

Even typing the word author feels surreal.

It’s exciting.
It’s humbling.
It’s a little scary.

But most of all…

I’m proud.

For so many years, I doubted myself.

I questioned whether I was talented enough. I wondered if my words mattered. I talked myself out of opportunities before I even gave myself a chance to try. Looking back, I realize that the biggest obstacle wasn’t other people’s opinions—it was my own self-doubt.

Yet somehow, through every setback, every edit, every delay, and every moment I wanted to question the process, God kept reminding me to keep going.

And now…

Here I am.

An author.

There are people I have to thank because I know I didn’t get here alone.

To my best friend—you know exactly who you are.

Thank you for believing in me before I fully believed in myself. You once told me you saw so much potential in me and that you wanted to see me win because you could already see what I couldn’t.

Those words never left me.

Sometimes all it takes is one person believing in you long enough for you to start believing in yourself.

Thank you for being more than a best friend. Thank you for becoming my sister. Thank you for encouraging me, celebrating me, correcting me when I needed it, and reminding me that I was capable of so much more than I gave myself credit for.

I tell you “thank you” often because I never want you to wonder if your love, your support, and your friendship made a difference.

It did.

It always will.

To my Auntie Ty…

Thank you for your wisdom, your patience, your honesty, and your unconditional love.

No matter how many miles separate us, you’ve always made me feel close. You’ve always answered the phone, listened without judgment, and reminded me who I was whenever I forgot.

Having you as my aunt is one of God’s greatest blessings in my life.

I appreciate you more than words could ever express.

To my family…

Thank you for celebrating this journey with me. Every encouraging text, every conversation, every prayer, every smile, and every “I’m proud of you” filled my heart more than you’ll ever know.

To everyone who has been a part of my life—whether you’re still here or our paths have gone in different directions—thank you.

You all taught me something.

Some of you taught me love.

Some taught me strength.

Some taught me boundaries.

Some taught me what I deserved.

Some taught me what I would never accept again.

Every person became a chapter in my life, and every chapter helped shape the woman I am today.

For that, I am grateful.

This book isn’t just about me.

It’s for anyone who has ever questioned themselves.

For anyone trying to heal.

For anyone learning to love themselves again.

For anyone who has ever looked in the mirror and wondered who they really are.

If my story helps even one person feel seen, understood, or inspired to keep going, then every obstacle I faced was worth it.

Tomorrow marks the release of a book.

But for me…

It also marks the release of fear.

The release of doubt.

The release of the version of myself who never thought she was enough.

Tomorrow, I step into a new chapter—not just as a writer, but as an author.

Thank you to everyone who has walked beside me.

Thank you for believing.

Thank you for reading.

Thank you for loving me through every version of myself.

With all my heart,

Xavier D. Hamlin

Author of Mirrors of Me: Learning Who I Am Through Love and Life

P.S.
If you’ve been putting off a dream because you’re afraid, let my story be your reminder that it’s never too late to begin. I hope one day I get to celebrate your dream the way you’re celebrating mine today. Thank you for believing in me. Now it’s your turn to believe in yourself.

I opened my email and saw a message from Kindle Direct Publishing.

“Your book, Mirrors of Me: Learning Who I Am Through Love and Life, is scheduled for release on July 17, 2026.”

To some people, it was just another email.

To me, it represented months of hard work, countless revisions, moments of frustration, lessons in patience, and a dream that refused to die.

What many people don’t see is everything that happens behind the scenes when you’re chasing a goal. They don’t see the late nights, the mistakes that have to be corrected, the unexpected obstacles, or the moments when you wonder if you’re good enough to finish what you started.

There were times I questioned whether this book would ever make it to the finish line. Formatting issues, editing, redesigns, waiting on approvals, it felt like every time I solved one problem, another appeared. More than once, I wanted to walk away.

But every challenge taught me something.

I learned that dreams don’t come with shortcuts.

I learned that growth often looks like starting over.

I learned that patience isn’t about waiting, it’s about continuing to work while you wait.

Most importantly, I learned that the finish line is worth every obstacle you face along the way.

When I first began writing Mirrors of Me, I wasn’t trying to become an author. I was simply trying to understand myself. Writing became a mirror. Every chapter reflected a lesson, a heartbreak, a victory, and a version of myself that helped shape the woman I am today.

Now, knowing that this book will soon be in the hands of readers is both exciting and humbling. My hope is that somewhere, someone will read these pages and realize they are not alone in their own journey.

This experience has reminded me that life isn’t about avoiding setbacks. It’s about refusing to let them define your ending.

So if you’re reading this while working toward a dream of your own, whether it’s starting a business, going back to school, writing a book, changing careers, or simply becoming a better version of yourself, don’t stop because the road gets difficult.

Sometimes the breakthrough you’ve been praying for arrives quietly, in the form of an email, a phone call, or an opportunity you never expected.

Celebrate every milestone, even the ones no one else understands. They are proof that you’re moving forward.

My book will officially be released on July 17, 2026, and while that date marks the beginning of a new chapter, it also reminds me how far I’ve already come.

This isn’t just the release of a book.

It’s the reward for choosing not to give up.

Thank you to everyone who has encouraged me, believed in me, and supported this journey. I can’t wait to share Mirrors of Me: Learning Who I Am Through Love and Life with all of you.

Until then, I’ll keep writing, keep learning, and keep believing.

Today’s Word: Perseverance

Your dream may take longer than you expected, but that doesn’t mean it’s not on its way. Keep showing up. Keep believing. Keep going.

— Xavier D. Hamlin

It all started because one of my homegirls began an anti-inflammatory, no-added-sugar lifestyle, and I could honestly see the difference it was making for her. She suggested that I give it a try too, and after hearing about her experience, I thought, “Why not?”

So naturally, I called my cousins and asked if they’d be interested in joining me. Of course, they were all in!

One of my cousins is doing the 75 Hard Challenge while following the Mediterranean diet. As for me, I’ll be following the 75 Hard Challenge with an anti-inflammatory, no-added-sugar diet. I think the rest of my cousins are leaning toward doing the same as me, but we’ll see once we officially get started.

Then, as if losing weight wasn’t enough, my cousin decided to raise the stakes. She said, “Let’s see who can get the most steps too.” And then came the real motivation…

Let’s put money on it. 😂

Now, if you know me, you know one thing—I do not like losing money…or a bet! So trust me when I say I’m taking this challenge very seriously. 😝

In all honesty, this is something I needed to do anyway. Having my family doing it alongside me just makes it even more fun and gives us all a chance to hold each other accountable.

Over the next 75 days, I’ll be sharing the highs, the lows, the cravings, the workouts, the wins, and probably a few moments where I question why I agreed to this. 😂 But I’m excited to see how much we can all grow—not just physically, but mentally too.

So wish us luck! 🍀

Who do you think is walking away with the biggest pile of money?

My vote is… ME! 😝💰🏆

My Fourth of July was everything I could have hoped for. It was filled with laughter, family, bonding, and memories I’ll always cherish. I spent the day helping my cousins put everything together for the Fourth of July BBQ they planned for our family at their father’s house. From setting things up to making sure everything was ready, it was all hands on deck. By the end of the day, my feet and legs were on fire, but seeing everyone enjoying themselves made it all worth it.

My uncle had everyone laughing, thinking he was a professional bartender, mixing drinks and entertaining the family like he always does. Those are the moments I cherish the most—just sitting back, looking around, and realizing how blessed I am to have a family that truly enjoys being together. We laughed, shared stories, had our late-night girl talks with my cousins, and before I knew it, it was 3:30 in the morning. My family was still partying at my uncle’s house while I was finally heading home. It reminded me that some of life’s greatest memories are the simple ones shared with the people you love.

The rest of the weekend was nonstop.

Before I go any further, I have to give a very special thank you to Little Accommodations Inc. and the owner, Robin. I truly couldn’t have brought this vision to life without your help. From the very beginning, you listened to every idea I had and transformed it into something even more beautiful than I imagined. Walking into the room and seeing everything come together was an emotional moment because it looked exactly the way I had pictured it in my heart. Your creativity, your attention to detail, and the love you pour into your work truly showed. Decorating isn’t just something you do—it’s your art. Thank you for your patience, your kindness, and for helping make my mother’s 60th birthday so unforgettable. I’ll always be grateful.

Ever since April, I had been planning my mother’s 60th birthday celebration. The days leading up to it were filled with running from store to store, picking up decorations, desserts, food, drinks, and all of the last-minute details. I won’t lie—there were moments when I felt like I had the weight of the entire celebration on my shoulders.

But this weekend reminded me that you don’t have to carry everything alone.

My soon-to-be stepfather stepped in and helped me so much to make this day special. My cousins—Britt, Bebe, GG, Moon, Just, and Bri—along with my Auntie Ty and everyone else who lent a hand, showed up for me in ways I’ll never forget. Whether it was helping set up, moving things around, decorating, preparing food, or simply asking, “What do you need?” every single act of kindness meant the world to me.

I truly couldn’t have done it without all of you because your girl was about five minutes away from a nervous breakdown! We laughed through the stress, figured things out together, and somehow made everything come together beautifully.

July 5th was my mother’s surprise 60th birthday party—the day we had all been waiting for.

She had absolutely no idea what was waiting for her. Watching the surprise on her face made every late night, every shopping trip, every bit of planning, and every stressful moment completely worth it. Everything came together exactly how I had envisioned it months ago.

One of the most emotional moments for me was watching my mother see my Aunt Ty. The tears immediately filled her eyes. My mother isn’t someone I usually see cry, so witnessing that moment reminded me just how deep their love and bond truly is. It was one of those memories that no amount of money could ever replace.

As I looked around the room, seeing my family laughing, eating, dancing, taking pictures, and simply enjoying one another filled my heart with so much joy. Hearing everyone tell me how proud they were of me and how amazed they were that I planned everything meant more than they’ll ever know.

This weekend also reminded me of something about myself.

Sometimes we question whether we’re capable of accomplishing the things we dream about. But this weekend reminded me that I can have a vision, work hard, stay committed, and see it through. Between finishing my book, starting my candle business, and now planning one of the biggest celebrations I’ve ever done, I’m beginning to see myself differently.

Maybe I’m stronger than I’ve been giving myself credit for.

This weekend reminded me that love is shown through time, effort, sacrifice, and simply showing up for the people who matter. It reminded me that family isn’t perfect, but when we come together with love, we create memories that last forever.

To my beautiful mother, Happy 60th Birthday. I hope this celebration reminded you just how loved you are.

To my soon-to-be stepfather, thank you for stepping in wherever I needed you.

To Robin and Little Accommodations Inc., thank you for bringing my vision to life so beautifully.

To Britt, Bebe, GG, Moon, Just, Bri, Auntie Ty, and everyone else who helped in any way—thank you for making this day possible. I will never forget it.

As I sit here reflecting on this incredible weekend, my body is tired, but my heart is full.

Sometimes the most beautiful celebrations aren’t measured by how much money was spent or how perfect everything looked. They’re measured by the love in the room, the laughter that filled the air, the tears of joy, and the memories created with the people who matter most.

And if I had to do it all over again…

I would.

A Reflection to Leave You With

Sometimes we’re so busy creating memories for everyone else that we forget to appreciate the work our own hearts put in.

Don’t wait for a special occasion to tell someone you love them. Celebrate them while they’re here. Take the pictures. Give the hugs. Say the words.

One day, those moments will become the stories you’ll cherish forever.

With love,

Xavier

Simply Xavier ✍🏽

“Just a woman learning, growing, and finding beauty in everyday life—one story at a time.”

This weekend was one of the busiest weekends I’ve had in a long time, and I’m not going to lie—it was overwhelming. But it was the kind of overwhelming that comes from doing something meaningful for the people you love.

My Fourth of July was everything I could have hoped for. It was filled with laughter, family, bonding, and memories I’ll always cherish. I spent the day helping my cousins put everything together for the Fourth of July BBQ they planned for our family at their father’s house. From setting things up to making sure everything was ready, it was all hands on deck. By the end of the day, my feet and legs were on fire, but seeing everyone enjoying themselves made it all worth it.

My uncle had everyone laughing, thinking he was a professional bartender, mixing drinks and entertaining the family like he always does. Those are the moments I cherish the most—just sitting back, looking around, and realizing how blessed I am to have a family that truly enjoys being together. We laughed, shared stories, had our late-night girl talks with my cousins, and before I knew it, it was 3:30 in the morning. My family was still partying at my uncle’s house while I was finally heading home. It reminded me that some of life’s greatest memories are the simple ones shared with the people you love.

The rest of the weekend was nonstop.

Before I go any further, I have to give a very special thank you to Little Accommodations Inc. and the owner, Robin. I truly couldn’t have brought this vision to life without your help. From the very beginning, you listened to every idea I had and transformed it into something even more beautiful than I imagined. Walking into the room and seeing everything come together was an emotional moment because it looked exactly the way I had pictured it in my heart. Your creativity, your attention to detail, and the love you pour into your work truly showed. Decorating isn’t just something you do—it’s your art. Thank you for your patience, your kindness, and for helping make my mother’s 60th birthday so unforgettable. I’ll always be grateful.

Ever since April, I had been planning my mother’s 60th birthday celebration. The days leading up to it were filled with running from store to store, picking up decorations, desserts, food, drinks, and all of the last-minute details. I won’t lie—there were moments when I felt like I had the weight of the entire celebration on my shoulders.

But this weekend reminded me that you don’t have to carry everything alone.

My soon-to-be stepfather stepped in and helped me so much to make this day special. My cousins—Britt, Bebe, GG, Moon, Just, and Bri—along with my Auntie Ty and everyone else who lent a hand, showed up for me in ways I’ll never forget. Whether it was helping set up, moving things around, decorating, preparing food, or simply asking, “What do you need?” every single act of kindness meant the world to me.

I truly couldn’t have done it without all of you because your girl was about five minutes away from a nervous breakdown! We laughed through the stress, figured things out together, and somehow made everything come together beautifully.

July 5th was my mother’s surprise 60th birthday party—the day we had all been waiting for.

She had absolutely no idea what was waiting for her. Watching the surprise on her face made every late night, every shopping trip, every bit of planning, and every stressful moment completely worth it. Everything came together exactly how I had envisioned it months ago.

One of the most emotional moments for me was watching my mother see my Aunt Ty. The tears immediately filled her eyes. My mother isn’t someone I usually see cry, so witnessing that moment reminded me just how deep their love and bond truly is. It was one of those memories that no amount of money could ever replace.

As I looked around the room, seeing my family laughing, eating, dancing, taking pictures, and simply enjoying one another filled my heart with so much joy. Hearing everyone tell me how proud they were of me and how amazed they were that I planned everything meant more than they’ll ever know.

This weekend also reminded me of something about myself.

Sometimes we question whether we’re capable of accomplishing the things we dream about. But this weekend reminded me that I can have a vision, work hard, stay committed, and see it through. Between finishing my book, starting my candle business, and now planning one of the biggest celebrations I’ve ever done, I’m beginning to see myself differently.

Maybe I’m stronger than I’ve been giving myself credit for.

This weekend reminded me that love is shown through time, effort, sacrifice, and simply showing up for the people who matter. It reminded me that family isn’t perfect, but when we come together with love, we create memories that last forever.

To my beautiful mother, Happy 60th Birthday. I hope this celebration reminded you just how loved you are.

To my soon-to-be stepfather, thank you for stepping in wherever I needed you.

To Robin and Little Accommodations Inc., thank you for bringing my vision to life so beautifully.

To Britt, Bebe, GG, Moon, Just, Bri, Auntie Ty, and everyone else who helped in any way—thank you for making this day possible. I will never forget it.

As I sit here reflecting on this incredible weekend, my body is tired, but my heart is full.

Sometimes the most beautiful celebrations aren’t measured by how much money was spent or how perfect everything looked. They’re measured by the love in the room, the laughter that filled the air, the tears of joy, and the memories created with the people who matter most.

And if I had to do it all over again…

I would.

A Reflection to Leave You With

Sometimes we’re so busy creating memories for everyone else that we forget to appreciate the work our own hearts put in.

Don’t wait for a special occasion to tell someone you love them. Celebrate them while they’re here. Take the pictures. Give the hugs. Say the words.

One day, those moments will become the stories you’ll cherish forever.

Simply Xavier ✍🏽

“Just a woman learning, growing, and finding beauty in everyday life—one story at a time.”

Being petty is doing something just to make someone else feel what they made you feel.

Protecting your peace is choosing not to respond, walking away, or letting life teach the lesson instead.

I’ve learned that not every text deserves a reply.
Not every disrespect deserves my energy.
Not every goodbye deserves a fight.

There was a time when I wanted people to feel exactly how they made me feel. Now, I’d rather put that energy into becoming a better version of myself.

I’ve also learned that some people won’t do for you what you would gladly do for them. That goes for friends, family members, and even parents. Sometimes the things that mean the world to you don’t carry the same meaning for someone else. What feels like a small act to you might feel like a huge sacrifice to them.

It took me a long time to understand that not everyone has the same heart that I do, and that’s okay. We all love differently. We all show up differently.

Don’t let that harden your heart. Don’t stop being thoughtful. Don’t stop being kind. Don’t stop loving the way you love just because someone couldn’t meet you where you were.

Don’t let someone else’s inability to love like you convince you that your heart is too big. The world needs more people who love deeply, not fewer.

Continue to be yourself. Continue to have a big heart. Just learn to give your love, time, and energy to the people who truly appreciate it. Protect your peace without losing your kindness.

Being petty might feel good for a moment.
Being at peace feels good for a lifetime.

Choose peace.
Choose growth.
Choose yourself.

The day I was supposed to start my process, I received a call from the doctor’s office from the financial advisor about an issue regarding my medication. Naturally, I thought the problem was with the medication itself. But when I started making calls to get everything situated, I realized it wasn’t about the medication at all.

It was about my egg freezing.

I was told that my insurance doesn’t cover egg freezing. Instead, they cover IVF (In Vitro Fertilization), which is a fertility treatment where an egg and sperm are combined outside the body in a laboratory to create an embryo. The embryo is then transferred into the uterus to establish a pregnancy.

To be honest, I was upset, overwhelmed, frustrated, and disappointed when I heard the news.

Part of me felt like this was important information that should have been explained much earlier in the process. By this point, I had already gone through appointments, bloodwork, ultrasounds, consultations, paperwork, and mentally prepared myself to begin this journey. Hearing this information at the last minute felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under me.

The clinic explained that I could still move forward if I wanted to. The option was there. But it would mean taking a different route than I originally planned.

And if I’m being honest with myself, I’m not ready for that right now.

I want to become a mother one day more than anything. That dream hasn’t changed. But I also know that I want certain things in place before I take that next step. I want my own place again. I want to feel financially secure. And if God blesses me with it, I would love to have a partner by my side to share the experience with me instead of doing it alone.

I think one of the hardest parts about this journey is when you believe you’ve found someone you can build a future with, someone you can see yourself growing with, creating a home with, and maybe even raising a family with one day.

Then life takes a different turn.

When that person tells you they don’t see the same future, or they aren’t willing to take that journey with you, it forces you to stop and reevaluate everything.

If I’m being completely honest, there was a part of me that felt like maybe he was making excuses. But another part of me believes he was afraid. Afraid of the unknown. Afraid of what could happen. Afraid of taking a chance on something that wasn’t guaranteed.

The truth is, none of us can predict the future.

None of us know what’s going to happen tomorrow, next year, or five years from now.

And that’s what made me think even more about my own situation.

The timing is different now than it was before.

The woman I am today is different from the woman I was a few years ago.

My priorities have changed.

My goals have changed.

My understanding of love, partnership, and motherhood has changed.

As much as I wanted everything to fall into place at the same time, a partner, a home, a family, and this journey, I am learning that life doesn’t always work that way.

Sometimes God separates the chapters.

Sometimes He asks us to focus on building ourselves before building everything else.

And while that isn’t always easy to accept, I’m learning to trust that what is meant for me will not pass me by.

Whether motherhood comes through a partner, through my own choice, or through a path I haven’t even imagined yet, I believe it will happen when the time is right.

After getting the news, I called my best friend and told her everything that had happened. I explained the situation and how disappointed I was feeling. As always, she listened and then gave me a perspective that I honestly needed to hear.

She said, “Girl, if you start this process now, you’re going to be raising a baby while still living at your mother’s house. You know that’s not going to work.”

The moment she said it, a light bulb went off in my head.

I sat there for a second and realized she was absolutely right.

As much as I want to become a mother, I also know the type of environment I want to bring a child into. I want my own space. I want stability. I want to create a home that belongs to me and my future child.

That’s when I made the decision that I’m going to wait until next year to continue my journey.

And honestly, that’s okay.

There are still so many things I want to accomplish before I become a mother.

I want my own place.

I want to continue building my future.

I want to keep growing into the woman I know I’m becoming.

I want to continue healing.

I want to continue trusting myself.

It’s not that I’m not ready to be a mother.

It’s that I’m not ready to be a mother while still living at home.

Of course, I know that life doesn’t always happen according to our plans. Sometimes God has a different timeline than the one we create for ourselves. And that’s been one of the hardest lessons in this journey.

For a few days, I questioned everything.

I cried.

I felt disappointed.

I felt like I was finally moving toward something I wanted so badly, only to hit another roadblock.

And if I’m being completely honest, there was a moment when I started questioning if motherhood was even meant for me. I found myself asking why this was happening and wondering if maybe I should just give up on the dream altogether.

But then I talked to one of my homeboys.

He quickly stopped me from thinking that way.

He reminded me that I will become a mother one day.

He said so many beautiful things that honestly brought tears to my eyes. He told me that God will bring me everything I deserve because I’m a beautiful and amazing person inside and out. He reminded me that this setback doesn’t define me and that I should never think less of myself because of a delay.

He told me to keep believing.

To keep trusting.

To keep having faith.

Hearing those words meant more than he’ll probably ever know.

Between my best friend and my homeboy, they both helped me see things differently. They reminded me that this situation isn’t a punishment. It’s not a sign that motherhood isn’t in my future. It’s simply a sign that the timing isn’t right yet.

Their words made me think deeply about my goals, my future, my living situation, my relationships, and the life I want to create before bringing a child into the world.

After sitting with my emotions, I realized something important:

This is not the end of my story.

This is simply a pause.

A pause doesn’t mean a dream is over.

It doesn’t mean I’ve failed.

It doesn’t mean motherhood is no longer possible for me.

It simply means I need a little more time.

Time to rebuild.

Time to prepare.

Time to create the life I want.

Time to trust God’s timing instead of my own.

So this Friday, I’ll be returning the medication and officially putting this chapter on pause for now.

Not because I’m giving up.

Not because I don’t want to be a mother.

But because I deserve to start this journey the way I want to start it.

With peace.

With stability.

With confidence.

With a home of my own.

And when next year comes, I’ll revisit this journey with a clearer mind, a stronger foundation, and even more faith than I have today.

For now, I’m choosing patience over pressure, preparation over panic, and faith over fear.

I still believe that motherhood is in my future.

I still believe that the life I’m working so hard for is coming.

I still believe that God has a plan bigger than the one I can see right now.

This chapter may be called “Pause,” but it is not called “The End.”

My motherhood journey isn’t ending.

It’s simply waiting for the right time to begin.

Something happened recently that made me reflect on it even more. I won’t go into details because I’ve learned that speaking from a place of anger rarely helps anything. But it did make me sit back and think about my life, my upbringing, and some of the realities that come with being an only child.

Did my mother shelter me in some ways? Yes, she did. I know it came from love. I know it came from wanting to protect me and wanting me to have a better life than she did. But sometimes love and protection can also create pressure without anyone realizing it.

As an only child, I understand firsthand what it feels like. I know the love that comes with being someone’s only child, but I also know the expectations, the responsibilities, and sometimes the loneliness that comes with it too.

When you’re younger, being an only child doesn’t always seem like a big deal. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized something I never thought I would say:

I hate being an only child more now than ever.

Not because I wasn’t loved. Not because I had a bad childhood. But because the older I get, the more I understand the weight that comes with it.

Once you hit your mid-30s and beyond, the pressure starts to feel different.

“When are you getting married?”

“When are you having kids?”

“Don’t you want a family?”

As if life is supposed to happen on everyone else’s timeline.

The pressure gets worse because you’re the only child. There isn’t another sibling who got married first. There isn’t another sibling who already gave your parents grandchildren. There isn’t another sibling to take some of the attention, questions, and expectations off of you. Everything somehow circles back to you.

People don’t talk enough about the emotional side of being an only child. There is no one to split the responsibility with. No one to call who truly understands your parents the way you do. No one who grew up in the same house with the same experiences. No one to help carry family situations when they become overwhelming.

And sometimes, whether parents realize it or not, their frustrations get placed on you.

You’re just minding your business, living your life, trying to figure things out like everyone else. Yet somehow you become the target of their worries, fears, disappointments, or frustrations. Not because they don’t love you, but because you’re the only one there. Sometimes they don’t even realize they’re doing it.

Another lesson I’ve learned is that moving back home isn’t always what people think it is.

Sometimes you think moving back home will make life easier. You’ll save money, regroup, and get ahead. Then you realize your relationship with your parents was actually healthier when everyone had their own space.

Sometimes loving your parents and living with your parents are two completely different things.

Sometimes distance creates healthier boundaries, more respect, and a better relationship overall. Sometimes being back under the same roof reminds you why independence matters so much.

One thing I’ve also learned is that there isn’t just one type of only child.

Some only children grow up to be loving, kind, independent, and thoughtful. Some become incredibly resilient because they had to figure things out on their own.

Others become dependent because someone was always there to do everything for them. Some struggle with motivation because they were so used to their parents fixing problems, making decisions, or catering to them well into adulthood.

Some push themselves harder because they feel like they have something to prove. Others become comfortable because they know there is always a safety net waiting for them.

And then there are people like me who didn’t fully understand what being an only child really meant until later in life.

Sometimes it doesn’t hit you in your teens or twenties.

Sometimes it takes getting older, watching your parents age, dealing with family responsibilities, navigating relationships, thinking about marriage, thinking about children, and trying to build your own life before it all starts to make sense.

Then you realize one day that there is no sibling standing next to you.

No one to help make decisions.

No one to share responsibilities.

No one to carry part of the emotional load.

It’s just you.

There are days when I honestly wish my mother had another child. Not because I wasn’t loved. Not because I wanted less attention. But because sometimes I wish I had someone who truly understood this journey. Someone to share the weight. Someone to laugh about family stories with. Someone to call when life feels heavy.

Being an only child made me independent, strong, resilient, and capable.

But it also taught me that strength can be lonely.

Sometimes people look at you and think you have it all together because you’ve always handled everything yourself. What they don’t see is how much you’re carrying behind the scenes.

The older I get, the more I realize that being an only child is both a blessing and a burden.

You receive a lot of love.

But sometimes you carry a lot of weight too.

And now that I’m older, that weight feels heavier than ever before.

Maybe that’s part of growing up—learning how to appreciate the love you were given while also being honest about the challenges that came with it.

But life doesn’t always work that way.

Recently, I had a conversation with someone from my past. Someone who played an important role in my life. Someone who, for a long time, I carried hurt toward because of how things ended and how everything unfolded afterward.

I spent years looking at the situation through my own pain. Through my own disappointment. Through the feeling of being left behind.

And then something happened.

I listened.

Not because I suddenly agreed with everything that was said. Not because my feelings disappeared. But because for the first time, I allowed myself to hear their perspective without immediately comparing it to my own.

What I learned was simple:

People can have good intentions and still hurt you.

People can care about you and still make choices that break your heart.

People can tell the truth as they know it, and it can still leave you carrying pain.

The older I get, the more I realize that healing isn’t always about proving who was right. Sometimes it’s about understanding that two people can walk away from the same experience with completely different memories and completely different scars.

I was looking at how everything affected me.

He was looking at what his intentions were.

Neither one canceled out the other.

For years, I wanted my hurt to be understood. And after talking, I realized something important: understanding doesn’t always mean agreement.

Sometimes people simply did the best they could with what they knew at the time.

That doesn’t erase the hurt.

But it can help release the anger.

One of the greatest signs of growth is being able to say:

“I understand your side, but I still honor my feelings.”

Both can exist at the same time.

I don’t need to rewrite my story.

I don’t need to pretend I wasn’t hurt.

And I don’t need someone else’s version of events to match mine for me to move forward.

The lesson wasn’t about going backward.

The lesson was about realizing how far I’ve come.

I’ve learned that forgiveness isn’t reconciliation.

Peace isn’t forgetting.

Closure isn’t always an apology.

Sometimes closure is simply reaching a point where you no longer need the other person to validate your experience.

You know what happened.

They know what happened.

And somewhere in the middle sits the truth.

Today, I choose peace.

I choose gratitude for the lessons.

I choose to appreciate the role people played in my life without needing them to stay in it forever.

Because not every chapter is meant to be reopened.

Some chapters are meant to be understood, appreciated, and finally closed.

And that’s growth.

The day I woke up to my alarm ringing as “I Love Me” by Joy Rhodes played through my phone. Right then, I knew this morning was going to be a good one. I could feel it as the sunlight hit my face.

As I got ready for my 6:45 AM appointment, I couldn’t help but think about everything that led me to this moment. I even started wondering if I’m the first person in my family to ever do something like this. But that’s a conversation for another day.

So, let’s get back on track.

I left the house early because if there’s one thing about me, I like being on time. As I walked into the building, I made my way to the nurse’s desk and let them know I was there for my appointment.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Good morning,” I replied.

She handed me a Blood Test Requisition form and asked me to fill it out. After I was done filling out the form and all the basic information they always ask for, I walked back up to the desk and handed it to the receptionist.

By the time I sat back down, I heard my name being called.

I walked to the back, and there were already two nurses waiting for me. When I tell you they had that place moving, they had that place moving! The way they were bringing patients in and out, it felt like I was at a fast-food restaurant. Everyone knew their job, everyone was on the move, and there was no time being wasted.

Before I knew it, it was my turn.

Now let me tell you something—the woman drawing my blood was definitely not a morning person. The first questions she asked were my date of birth and the first day of my last period. After that, she drew my blood.

And for anyone wondering, it was only one tube of blood.

That’s it.

The bloodwork was quick, easy, and before I knew it, I was done.

Now here’s the funny part.

I was literally about to walk out of the office and head home when the nurse stopped me and said, “Wait! You still have your ultrasound next.”

I looked at her and said, “Oh shoot! You’re right!”

We both started laughing.

I guess with everything going on, all the nerves, excitement, and overthinking, I completely forgot there was still another part of my appointment.

So back to the waiting room I went.

And that’s when it was finally time for the ultrasound.

As I sat there for maybe no more than 5–10 minutes, the receptionist called my name and guided me to where I needed to go.

As I walked through the first door, I saw the nurse and asked, “Is this the room I should be in?”

She smiled and said, “Yes.”

She told me to take everything off from the waist down, sit on the exam table, and that she would be in shortly.

And to be honest, that’s when my nerves started to kick in.

For some reason, my brain was working overtime. A thousand questions were running through my head. If you know me, then you know I tend to overthink when I’m nervous or scared. That’s just who I am.

I know… super crazy, right? Lol.

But back to the story.

As I was lying there waiting, the nurse came back into the room. She asked for my date of birth, walked over to the ultrasound machine, and pulled up my information.

And ladies, if you’ve ever been to the GYN, you already know the routine.

As she began the ultrasound, I asked her what exactly she was doing. She explained that this was a baseline ultrasound. Before starting the medications, they need to make sure everything looks good and that my body is ready for the egg-freezing process.

During the ultrasound, they checked:

🥚 My Ovaries – to see how they were looking and to get an idea of how many follicles might be developing.

🥚 My Fallopian Tubes – to make sure everything looked normal.

🥚 My Fibroids – since I have fibroids, they wanted to make sure they hadn’t grown or changed.

🥚 Any Cysts – to make sure there were no ovarian cysts that could interfere with treatment.

🥚 My Uterus – to make sure everything looked healthy before starting medication.

The nurse also explained something that I really appreciated. She told me that the reason they do these tests before starting the medications is because if there are any issues, they want to identify them now instead of later. That way, they can address any concerns before beginning the egg-freezing process and make sure everything is set up for the best possible outcome.

Honestly, I respect that.

It showed me that they aren’t rushing the process. They’re taking the time to make sure everything looks good before moving forward, and that gave me a lot of confidence.

She then asked if I had received all of my medications.

I told her yes, that they arrived the night before.

She asked if I had started taking anything yet.

I laughed and said, “No. I was wondering if I should, but I asked ChatGPT first.”

She laughed and said, “Good.”

She explained that today’s ultrasound and bloodwork would help determine the dosage of medication I would need. She told me that the doctor would call me later to go over my results and explain exactly what medications I needed to take and how much.

The nurse was incredibly kind and patient. She answered every question I had without making me feel rushed.

At one point, I told her that I was documenting my journey on my blog.

She smiled and said, “Wow, that’s amazing that you’re doing that.”

Then she wished me luck.

As we continued talking, I felt myself relax. The nervousness started fading away, and all those thousands of thoughts running through my head began to quiet down. She made me feel comfortable, and honestly, that made all the difference.

When the ultrasound was over, she reminded me that I would receive a call later from the doctor with my results from both the bloodwork and ultrasound.

I also told her that my homegirl was going to help me with my first injection and that she’s a nurse too.

She smiled and said, “That’s good. It’s nice to have someone there to help you.”

Then she said something that made me feel a lot better.

“The first time you’ll be nervous, and that’s normal. But by the second or third day, you’ll be a pro.”

I laughed and said, “Maybe by the third day.”

Lol.

Before leaving, she wished me luck again and told me she hoped everything went well.

I thanked her and wished her a wonderful day.

As I got dressed, I couldn’t stop smiling.

I was excited.

Excited to finally start the process.

Excited to take the next step.

Excited to see where this journey leads me.

I have to say, I’m really happy that I chose Dr. Traub’s office for this journey. His staff has been friendly, helpful, patient, and kind every step of the way. Unfortunately, not every medical office makes you feel comfortable, but this one does.

As for Dr. Traub, he’s exactly the type of doctor I was hoping to find. He’s straightforward, honest, knowledgeable, and caring. He tells you what you need to hear, answers your questions, and makes sure you understand what’s happening.

When you’re making a decision as important as egg freezing, having a doctor and staff you trust makes all the difference.

And because of that, I’m truly happy that I’m taking this journey with Dr. Traub and his team by my side.

When I walked out, I held my head high and told the ladies at the front desk to have a wonderful day and a great weekend.

They smiled and wished me the same.

As I got into my car, I sat there for a few minutes and immediately started writing everything down while it was still fresh in my mind.

And now…

We wait.

We wait for the phone call.

We wait for the results.

We wait for the next step.

Stay tuned for Episode 9.

See you later. ✌🏽💜🥚

And when I tell you that box was BIG, I mean BIG.

Opening it up and seeing all the medications, needles, syringes, alcohol pads, and instructions made everything feel real. I even had to figure out what needed to go in the refrigerator and what could stay at room temperature. It was a lot, but at the same time, it was exciting.

For months, I’ve been talking about freezing my eggs. I’ve been going to appointments, getting blood work, asking questions, signing forms, and doing my research. But seeing that box sitting on my table made me realize that this is really happening.

The journey is officially here.

I even called my homegirl because I want her to help me with my first shot. Not because I can’t do it, but because I want to see the process one more time, step by step. That way, when she’s not around, I’ll feel comfortable doing it on my own.

It’s funny because my mother asked me if I was excited. I told her yes, but I know I sounded a little dry. Maybe it’s because she hasn’t really asked me much about the process, and I don’t think she’s been following along with my blog. Lately, I’ve kept a lot of this journey to myself.

The people I’ve talked to the most about it have been Dana and Mr. R. They’ve both been genuinely interested in every appointment, every update, and every step of this process. And honestly, that means a lot to me.

So here I am tonight.

My medications are organized.
My alarm is set.
And my mind is racing with excitement, nerves, and a million thoughts.

Tomorrow morning at 6:45 AM, I head to my appointment for blood work and an ultrasound.

This is the moment I’ve been waiting for.

Wish me luck, everyone.

And stay tuned, because tomorrow the journey officially begins.

I know it’s been a little while, but I had to wait for my period to arrive before I could officially begin the process. Now that it’s here, I scheduled my bloodwork and ultrasound for tomorrow morning at 6:45 AM before work.

When I spoke with the nurse this morning, she asked if I had ordered my medication. I honestly didn’t realize I needed to order it myself because I thought I just had to call and let them know when my period started. Thankfully, everything worked out. I downloaded the Alto Pharmacy app and placed the order, and my medications should be arriving tonight between 6:00 PM and 9:00 PM.

As I sit here thinking about it, it’s kind of crazy to realize that tomorrow is the day this journey officially begins. After all the appointments, questions, paperwork, and waiting, I’m finally at the starting line.

I’m excited. I’m nervous. I’m curious. And most of all, I’m grateful that I have the opportunity to make this decision for my future.

Thank you for following along with me on this journey. I’ll be sharing more updates as I go, and I’ll even show you the medication packages when they arrive tonight.

Stay tuned… because Episode 8 might include my very first injections.

Driving home tonight, I found myself staring into space while the music played through my car speakers. Trying so hard to hold back my emotions, but failing with every mile.

Tonight, I realized something about myself that I never wanted to admit.

My heart is closed.

So closed that it shows.

So closed that I don’t even know how to let it down anymore.

I’ve been hurt so many times that my trust issues have become a part of me. A shield I carry everywhere, even when I don’t want to.

Sometimes life has a funny way of forcing you to sit with the truth.

To listen.

To reflect.

To finally be honest with yourself.

And tonight, I was.

I realized that some wounds heal on the surface but never completely disappear underneath.

That sometimes we convince ourselves we’re okay until a conversation, a moment, or a realization reminds us that we’re still carrying pieces of old heartbreak.

The hardest part about life isn’t always losing people.

Sometimes it’s accepting that not everything is meant to stay.

Sometimes it’s realizing that two people can care about each other deeply and still want different things.

Sometimes it’s understanding that timing, dreams, and life don’t always align the way we hope they will.

And that hurts.

More than most people know.

Because every now and then, you meet someone who makes you smile a little bigger.

Someone who makes hard days easier.

Someone who believes in you.

Someone who pushes you to chase your dreams and reminds you of your worth when you’ve forgotten it yourself.

And whether they stay forever or only for a season, they leave a mark.

A beautiful one.

A painful one.

A permanent one.

Then comes the moment you never expect.

The moment when someone asks if you can still be friends.

And deep down, all you want to say is no.

No.

No, I don’t want another male friend.

No.

No.

No.

Because I have enough friends.

I didn’t want a friend.

I wanted the possibility of something more.

I wanted what we were building.

The conversations.

The support.

The consistency.

The hope.

The hugs that somehow made everything feel okay for a little while.

The encouragement.

The feeling that someone genuinely wanted to see me win.

And maybe that’s what made tonight so hard.

Not because anyone was wrong.

Not because anyone was a bad person.

But because sometimes life puts good people in front of you, and the path still doesn’t lead where you hoped it would.

Tonight, I found myself thinking about how rare it is to be seen.

To be understood.

To have someone believe in your dreams as much as you do.

To have someone cheer for you, encourage you, and remind you that you are capable of everything you’ve been working toward.

Sometimes people come into your life and become a safe place without you even realizing it.

And when life shifts, you feel the absence before you’ve even had time to process it.

So I drove home for an hour.

Crying.

Lost in my thoughts.

Still somewhere in the clouds.

Trying to make sense of feelings I wasn’t prepared to face.

Trying to understand why certain moments stay with us long after they’re over.

Trying to understand why letting go can feel so heavy even when you know it’s the right thing to do.

I reached out to a friend because I needed someone.

Someone to listen.

Someone to remind me I wasn’t alone.

The moment he heard my voice, he knew something wasn’t right.

He heard the sadness I was trying so hard to hide.

And for once, I didn’t have the energy to pretend.

Because deep down, I’m tired.

I’m tired of hoping.

Tired of starting over.

Tired of opening doors just to watch them close.

Tired of wondering when things will finally make sense.

The tears weren’t because someone broke my heart.

The tears came from realizing how tired I am of starting over.

Tired of rebuilding.

Tired of hoping.

Tired of opening my heart just enough to believe, only to find myself back at the beginning again.

Tonight wasn’t about losing someone.

It was about feeling the weight of every goodbye, every disappointment, every almost, every maybe, and every “not this time.”

It was about realizing how much I’ve been carrying.

How much disappointment, fear, hope, and heartbreak can live in one heart at the same time.

And for once, I stopped pretending that I wasn’t exhausted.

Now I have to put on a smile this weekend.

I have to laugh.

Take pictures.

Have conversations.

Act like everything is okay.

Because I don’t want my cousins to see me heartbroken.

I don’t want them to see me upset.

I don’t want them asking if I’m okay when I know the answer is no.

So I’ll probably do what I’ve always done.

Push my feelings to the side.

Put on a brave face.

Smile when I don’t feel like smiling.

Laugh when my heart feels heavy.

Tell everyone I’m fine because it’s easier than explaining why I’m not.

But the truth is, I’m hurting.

Not because one person changed my life.

Not because one conversation ended something.

But because I’m tired of starting over.

And now, let the stress begin.

Sitting in the dark.

Staying up all night.

Eyes burning from tears and exhaustion, but refusing to close.

Mind racing.

Heart heavy.

Thoughts replaying over and over again.

Wondering how you can be so tired, yet unable to sleep.

Looking up into space.

Listening to the silence.

Trying to make sense of feelings that don’t have answers.

Trying to convince yourself that tomorrow will feel lighter.

Trying to believe that one day all of this will make sense.

So here I am.

Alone with my thoughts.

Alone with the darkness.

Alone with a heart that feels heavier than usual.

And maybe what hurts the most isn’t losing a person.

Maybe what hurts the most is constantly having to begin again.

Finding the strength to get back up.

Finding the courage to hope again.

Finding the faith to keep believing that what’s meant for you will find you.

Because tonight, I don’t feel strong.

Tonight, I don’t have the answers.

Tonight, I’m just tired.

So tired.

But somehow, when the sun comes up, I’ll get dressed.

I’ll smile.

I’ll show up.

And I’ll keep moving forward.

Even when I don’t feel like it.

On Thursday, May 21st, I thought it would be the day I officially started my egg-freezing journey. But it wasn’t — it was actually my nurse visit and paperwork process.

As soon as I walked up to the front desk, I said good morning and gave them my name. The nurse greeted me warmly and handed me forms to fill out — you know, the basic paperwork you normally complete at a doctor’s appointment. Even though I was excited, I was still nervous sitting there waiting to be called while filling everything out.

While I waited, I called Dana to let her know I was at my appointment, just to have someone to talk to. Honestly, I really wished she were there sitting next to me. She would’ve asked questions because that’s just how my friend is — always caring and worried whenever it comes to doctor appointments or anything important happening in my life. And I would do the same for her, too. We’re just like that with each other.

Once I finished filling out my forms, I handed them back and sat down until the nurse called me upstairs about five minutes later.

Once I got upstairs, the nurse guided me into the office where we would be sitting. When we sat down, she took out the forms and began explaining everything to me — every medication, every form, and every step of the process.

One of the forms I had to review was the consent form for egg freezing. After the nurse finished explaining everything, she asked if the person I had listed as my partner should remain on file.

At first, I honestly didn’t even know who she was talking about until I remembered who it was.

As soon as I said his name out loud, I quickly told her no and asked her to remove him from my records.

I had completely forgotten that I had ever put him down in the first place, and honestly, I didn’t realize they had kept his information on file for the past two and a half years.

While I sat there thinking about it all, she stepped out for a moment to remove him from the system.

Honestly, thank God she asked me about that person because I had completely forgotten he was still listed. I forgot that at one point in my life, I really thought I was going to build a future with that horrible man. Looking back now, I truly feel like God opened my eyes and woke me up to who that person really was.

I’m not even going to lie — at first, I had no idea what any of those medications were until the nurse sat down and carefully explained everything to me. After she walked me through each form, she told me to take my time reading everything myself before signing anything.

As I read through the paperwork, I started taking pictures of each form to send to Dana so she could understand what was happening throughout this journey with me. When she received them, she texted me and said she wished she were there with me so I wouldn’t have to go through everything alone.

But I told her I was okay and that even though we weren’t in the same state, she was still with me through it all.

As I continued reading through everything, the nurse came back in and asked if I had any questions. During the entire process, I was still sending Dana pictures of every form I had to sign so she could know exactly what was happening. At one point, I even thought about FaceTiming her so it would feel like she was there with me during the appointment.

I signed the paperwork for “Consent for Egg Freezing” and “Summary of Egg Freezing Medications.” The forms explained each medication, what it was used for, and how the entire process would work.

Honestly, hearing the list of medications all at once felt overwhelming:

Gonal-F (multidose), Menopur, Cetrotide, Lupron 2-week kit, Pregnyl, and Zithromax tablets.

Then came the financial part — the part I was honestly the most nervous about.

The financial coordinator, Jackie, came in to explain the Oocyte (Egg) Cryopreservation and Storage fees. She explained that the initial oocyte (egg) cryopreservation fee is $1,200, which includes one year of storage, and that the annual renewal fee for oocyte storage after that is $600.

As she and the nurse continued explaining everything to me, I started learning more about what my fertility benefits actually covered.

That’s when I found out my insurance includes two Smart Cycles, which means I’m covered for up to two fertility treatment cycles if needed. Hearing that gave me so much relief because it reminded me that this process doesn’t have to feel rushed or pressured.

I also learned that my plan covers oocyte storage, which is the storage of frozen eggs, along with embryo storage and even sperm storage if needed in the future.

Honestly, before this appointment, I didn’t fully understand how much goes into the egg-freezing process or how expensive it can be for so many women. So hearing that my insurance covered everything for an entire year felt like such a blessing and lifted a huge weight off my shoulders.

At that moment, I realized how important it is for women to truly understand and check their insurance benefits. You never know what opportunities, options, or support may already be available to help secure your future and give you peace of mind.

Jackie was so kind and understanding throughout the entire conversation. She told me that if I had any questions, I could always reach out to her. Instead of giving me a phone number, she gave me her email so she could respond more quickly without me having to wait.

We even shared a little laugh when I told her the doctor gives me anxiety and nerves whenever I see him. But she reassured me that he’s a very kind man who genuinely cares deeply about his patients.

And honestly, that’s exactly what I need right now — someone who will give me the real deal and always be honest with me.

Then she told me my insurance covered everything.

Instantly, the biggest smile came across my face.

I knew my insurance covered fertility treatments, but I didn’t realize it would cover everything for an entire year. Hearing that lifted such a huge weight off of me.

She also told me how lucky I am to have such amazing insurance because many women who go through this process end up paying $1,200 or more out of pocket just to do what I’m doing.

Hearing that really put everything into perspective for me.

She told me to take full advantage of my benefits while I have them, and honestly, she was absolutely right.

Before she left, Jackie wished me luck and blessings throughout this journey. Hearing that genuinely felt nice, and I smiled and thanked her.

After Jackie finished explaining everything, the nurse came back in and asked if I had any other questions.

One thing that had really been on my mind was whether I should start thinking more seriously about having a child after everything going on in my life.

Then the nurse pulled out a basket filled with all the medications and supplies I would be taking. She sat down, took everything out one by one, and carefully explained what each medication does, when I would need to take it, and how to properly inject it.

Seeing everything in person honestly helped me understand it so much better. It stopped feeling so confusing once she physically showed me what I would be doing.

She also told me there were instructional videos on the clinic’s website in case I forgot how to do any of the injections at home. But I told her my homegirl from work already said she would help me when the time came.

The nurse stressed how important it is to take the medications at the same time every single day. While she was talking, all I could think about was making sure I set alarms on my phone so I wouldn’t forget anything.

Then the nurse explained that once my cycle starts, I would need to schedule my baseline ultrasound and blood work between the first and fourth day of my cycle. She also told me that if my cycle happens to fall on a weekend, I would have to call the next business day to schedule my appointment.

She explained that the ultrasounds and blood work are performed between 6:30 a.m. and 8:45 a.m. at my GYN office. Honestly, hearing that made me happy because I realized I would still be able to go to my appointments before heading to work.

At that moment, my mind was processing everything all at once, but honestly, after everything she explained and showed me, I felt a lot more confident.

So I asked her what she thought about starting the process of having a baby later in life — maybe even sometime next year.

She told me that if I’m dating someone seriously, I should sit down and have an honest conversation with them about everything. But she also reminded me that if I ever wanted to have a child on my own, that was an option too.

She explained that the clinic could provide information about sperm banks and where they’re located if I decided to go that route.

Hearing her say that honestly gave me comfort because it reminded me that no matter what happens in life, I still have options and possibilities for my future.

Before I left, my IVF nurse showed me one more time how to properly do the injections and explained everything step-by-step again. She also told me that once my next period begins, I’ll need to call the nurses so they can arrange for my medications to be delivered on a day when someone is home.

One thing I will say to any woman thinking about freezing her eggs:

Please check your insurance benefits first. You never know what may already be covered for you.

And whatever you do — don’t give up on yourself or your future.

Until the next episode of my egg-freezing journey…

Stay tuned.

This Thursday is the day… and honestly, I think a lot of you have been waiting for this moment with me too. 💛

Thursday morning at 9:30am is officially the day I begin the process of freezing my eggs.

For those who may not know what that means, this process helps preserve my eggs for the future. It starts with bloodwork, ultrasounds, and hormone injections that help my body produce multiple eggs instead of just one. Over the next couple of weeks, I’ll have appointments where they monitor everything closely before the final retrieval procedure, where the eggs are collected and frozen.

Even typing this feels emotional.

And yes… Dana will absolutely be on the phone with me while I’m there because mama cannot do this without her little supporter who somehow always makes my worries disappear. 🥹 She’s also going to make sure I ask all the questions I know I’m going to forget once I sit down.

If she still lived here, I already know she would be right there beside me through every step of this journey.

I’m excited, nervous, emotional, grateful… all at the same time. But more than anything, I’m proud of myself for taking this step and thinking about my future.

This is a different kind of journey for me. A very personal one. One that requires strength, patience, trust, and a lot of self-love.

So stay tuned — I’ll be sharing this journey, the process, the emotions, the details, and even a few photos along the way.

I realized something lately… something I always wanted is finally happening.

Even though I had to wait until I was 39 years old to experience it, it’s never too late to have a real relationship with your parents.

I’ve written about my father before, never in a bad way, but honestly about how I felt at the time. And truthfully, some of those feelings still exist, just not as heavy as they once were.

For me, stepping away for about a year, no calls, no answering the phone, no reaching out, I think it finally woke him up. I think he realized how serious I was when I stopped showing up the way I always had. Especially when I didn’t call on his birthday or Father’s Day that year.

But now… our relationship is better.

Since he moved back to Staten Island, we talk more, see each other more, and honestly have more of a connection than we ever had before. And I’m happy about that. Truly happy.

But this isn’t only about fathers.

Some people don’t have a close relationship with their mothers either. Some people grow up in homes where communication, affection, emotional support, understanding, or comfort barely existed. Some children grow up feeling unheard, unseen, judged, or emotionally disconnected from the very people they needed the most.

And the truth is… that feeling follows many of us into adulthood.

I think sometimes parents misunderstand what their children truly want from them. Most of us are not asking for money, gifts, or perfection.

We simply want connection.

We want bonding.
We want conversations.
We want to be asked how our day was.
We want real support.
We want trust.
We want honesty.
We want to feel emotionally safe around the people who brought us into this world.

Some children spend years pretending certain things don’t hurt because they were taught to “just deal with it.” Some become independent too early because they learned they could not emotionally rely on anyone. Some stop expressing themselves because every emotion became “attitude” or “disrespect” instead of being understood.

And sadly, some parents get so used to seeing their children as one version of themselves that they never take the time to see who they are becoming.

People grow.
People heal.
People mature.
People change.

But sometimes parents never acknowledge that growth because they are too focused on who their child used to be instead of who they are now.

And that’s painful.

But at the same time, some children take advantage of their parents as well.

Some think their parents should still take care of them no matter what. Some believe they have no support while receiving all the support they truly need. Some children do not appreciate the sacrifices their parents make for them and take those things for granted, believing they are obligated to always get what they want.

Some children blame their mother or father for everything, thinking their parents owe them something.

But they don’t.

If you have or had a great mother or father, be thankful for that. Be grateful you may not have experienced the things they went through or are still going through.

Sometimes tough love is necessary too… but it’s all about how you give it and how you show it.

So if you have great children, mothers, or fathers in your life, say thank you. Tell them you appreciate them. Tell them you’re blessed to have them.

Because some people don’t have what you have.

So don’t take your parents or even your children for granted.

Because sometimes the only thing a child truly wants, even as an adult, is to feel seen, understood, accepted, and loved by their parents in a real way.

Not a controlling love.
Not a surface-level love.
But a genuine relationship.

And when that finally starts happening… even later in life… it honestly feels like healing a part of yourself you thought would always stay broken.