Hello old friends, new followers and fellow bloggers-

It’s been a while. I hope all is well with you as we celebrate this Thanksgiving holiday. I am enjoying a few days off from work and finally have the time and energy to update the world on my life. I wish this were a 2025 update, but it’s more of an update as to the last few years of my life. 2022-2025 has been a three-year period full of transitions. In that span of time, I just left a firm and joined another. I left a practice field and joined a new one. I gained a boyfriend, lost that boyfriend, and fell in love once again. I picked up a sport in my thirties: ballroom dance, and found so much joy from dancing. I’ve lost my grandparents within weeks of each other, and now I’m navigating through grief. I was on a team, now I’m professionally leading a team, talk about a plot twist. The last three years have taught me to ask deeper questions, to lean into meaningful conversations, and to demonstrate love to my people at a bar that was not set before.

You know, when life comes at us fast, we have one of two options: (1) to face what is coming head-on or (2) to run and hide until the storm passes. I used to be a proponent of option 1 because I thrived on the image of strength. I was a part of the camp that counseled others to face the world, their problems, and their woes at all times, regardless of season or capacity. I have since changed my tune. I have no desire to be the poster child for “the strong woman,” and I understand that it takes a level of strength to step back from what’s happening around you to catch your bearings. Sometimes, when life comes at us fast, we need a place to go where it is safe. Somewhere where no one is asking us a bunch of questions or wants to rehash our pain, just a place for breathing room. Dance, and the dance studio I frequent once a week, have become that place for me. Dance did not change the fact that my favorite person in the world, my grandpa, died, but it gave me the room to express my grief through movement. I felt the same when I traveled to Accra and hid from the world for two weeks – being in West Africa did not solve my grief cycle or problem, but it gave me the room to breathe through it. Why am I sharing all of this? Because sometimes we need to face our fears head-on. Sometimes we need to grit our teeth and fight through what’s in front of us. However, at other times, we need to retreat into ourselves, feel all the feelings, and position ourselves in a safe place until we are ready to acknowledge the pain we’ve endured.

These last three years have fundamentally changed me. I thought the fire of pain was killing me slowly, but it turns out fire refines us and makes us better. I am now more sure, more vocal, and more determined to create the life of my dreams. Through it all, I’m grateful that I have a steady presence I can count on – the Lord’s. He promises to never leave us or forsake us, to be with us until the end, and boy, is he keeping his end of the bargain. He has held me down regardless of my antics, meltdowns, transitions, grief, joy, etc. I have had so many feelings, yet his gentleness and steadfast love have remained the same. For that, I am eternally grateful. Now, as I transition into this new year, I am no longer reminiscing about the past, but I am looking forward with hope to the future, because after all the hell I’ve endured, it’s good to embrace all the moments heaven has crafted for me.

Until next time,

Simone