The long way home
“This is hard.”
A shared quote by every conscious human being to have ever lived.
I’ve turned to this space because the only thing I’ve consistently wanted to do is write and share my thoughts with a willing audience. Droning and complaining on X formerly known as Twitter has become unfulfilling, along with any other site in the Meta family. The aspect of owning my own website was too much maintenance.
I just want to write, share and read. This is where I feel at home.
I said this is hard to do because it’s been years since I’ve felt comfortable in writing something that was for public consumption. Since my remission from cancer in 2020, I fell into a spiral of self-discovery. What now? What am I on this earth to do? Why am I still here?
I was pushed to go further on a spiritual journey that I began as a child. I opened some doors that would’ve better off closed. As a child, and. now a woman of the Christian faith, I can say that I am no better than the Israelites in the wilderness.
If you don’t know the story, in the book of Exodus, after the Israelites were freed from slavery in Egypt by God…they got stuck in the wilderness for forty years because they couldn’t believe in the goodness that God had in store for them. Guess how long they were originally supposed to be there? Forty days.
I personally believe that what I’ve personally have been enduring is my own type of wilderness. After remission, I told everybody that I believed in God’s plans for me. Now I’ve realized that I truly could not believe that there was any more goodness in store for me.
I was caught in a spin cycle of self-pity and victimhood. I let ego dictate to me that I was the master of my own fate and that I alone could conquer the world. I felt unstoppable. I had a job, my own apartment, living on my own. And then I sunk my own ship.
What you can expect from my newsletter is personal reflection, thought musing and hopefully a reliable chronicling of a black woman’s journey to being whole and coming home to herself as she approaches what I’ll call “peak adulthood”.
I’m hoping that you’ll invite me into your inbox as I report weekly to you my discoveries and revelations.
Get ready. We’re going home, ya’ll.