The Black Bonnet Girls

Secrets carry a weight heavier than we imagine. When truth is unearthed, it doesn’t just sting—it shakes foundations and unleashes emotions long suppressed. I learned that while my mind seeks preparation, only my heart can guide me through the storm. Vulnerability, though painful, has become the path toward growth and self-trust.

As a child, I longed for my parents to show up at school performances, awards, or milestones, but they rarely came. I learned to expect less and hope less. Now, in my 20s, I show up for myself — to work events, dinners, and life moments. It doesn’t erase the sting of the past, but it reminds me I am worth showing up for.

I once lived like Winter—numb, armored, and distant. Now in my 20s, I feel more like Fall—warm, colorful, and open to connection. I’m outgrowing the constant vigilance, the heavy armor, and the belief that people aren’t worth knowing. Slowly, I’m learning to embrace both the light and dark, and it feels like healing. Over time, my inner season began to shift. I started to feel like Fall—warmer, more open, painted in the reds, oranges, and golds of change.

In my 20s, therapy became my hidden season of internal work. It was messy, uncertain, and invisible to others, but it planted seeds of healing. I learned that shame wasn’t who I was but what I carried. Slowly, I began to release it, reminding myself: I am not the problem—my healing is blooming quietly from within.

For years, “I’m fine” became my shield in survival mode—masking exhaustion, pain, and unspoken emotions. In my 20s, I’ve learned that being fine doesn’t mean silencing my feelings. It means allowing anger, sadness, and joy to exist, giving voice to the parts of myself I once buried for the greater good.In the moment, it didn’t feel like it.

Healing is like a train—always moving, sometimes forward, sometimes back, with no fixed destination. Through therapy, I learned healing isn’t about quick fixes or prescriptions, but about voicing truths, uncovering hidden thoughts, and embracing progress with grace. Healing is motion, not perfection.

From Surviving to Thriving reflects on the shift from hustle-driven exhaustion to intentional living. During the pandemic, slowing down opened space for creativity, healing, and rediscovery. Writing became a bridge between survival and joy, transforming pressure into possibility. Thriving isn’t abandoning hustle—it’s reshaping it into balance, creativity, and self-tending.

Success Beyond The Numbers redefines what it means to achieve. True success isn’t just metrics or constant performance—it’s a balance between heart and strategy, results and relationships. As women, we don’t need to shed softness or vulnerability to thrive. Success can be warm, collaborative, and deeply human, rooted not only in outcomes but in how we impact lives along the way.

Anxiety Fuels My Betrayal explores how anxiety can silence desires, dim opportunities, and mask vulnerability with indifference. It reflects on the self-betrayal of saying no when you want to say yes, and the lifelong journey of unmasking fear.

Healing In Progress is an honest reflection on what it means to accept that people cannot give what they don’t have. For so long, I measured love, attention, and understanding by what I wanted, not by what others were capable of giving. The absence of those things used to anger me, leading me to cut people off. But with age comes perspective.

Progress isn’t about arriving—it’s about evolving. Confidence, success, and self-love aren’t boxes to check but ongoing journeys shaped by choices, boundaries, and growth. True strength lies not in perfection but in honoring the sacred checkpoints: saying no when you’re unseen, choosing spaces that value you, and embracing rest as resistance. Life is not about “arriving” but progressing with intention and authenticity.

Introversion is not less than—it’s a strength. Too often, introverts are seen as quiet, aloof, or missing out, when in reality our quiet strength is rooted in reflection, intentional living, and authentic connection. Honoring solitude helps us recharge, deepen empathy, and move with clarity. Choosing peace over pressure, we embrace self-acceptance and protect our energy in a world that often misunderstands us.

Strength has long been tied to survival—showing up, pushing through, and never giving up. But true strength is more than a facade. It’s persistence, forgiveness, vulnerability, resilience, and faith. It’s letting tears fall, asking for help, and choosing hope even in the darkest of days. Strength is not just survival—it’s the courage to be authentic, trust God, and embrace both resilience and release.

Learning to love what’s real means embracing flaws, quiet truths, and imperfect beauty—stepping away from performance-based love and into the freedom of authenticity.

Looking back at the photos, I’m proud of my 20-year-old self for baking cookies and donuts, and  Whipping up soups, stews, and my favorite—chicken pot pie—was all new but certainly brought me joy.

Okay, so I’ll raise my hand and admit I’ve done therapy wanting to know why I think the way I do or do the things I do — beyond what my own understandings are or were. And honestly, no regrets. I hate the stigma around therapy and just the narrative that something must be— had to be — wrong with you to seek mental health help. Maybe there is, but isn’t there something wrong with all of us? Anyway, a pivotal moment or session, I should say, was...