01/08/2026
I’ve been in a season where all this s**t  is happening at once.
Not all bad — just full.
Entrepreneurship, motherhood, grief, bills, faith, healing… all layered on top of each other.
I’m exhausted , I’m working, I’m scared, and I’m trusting God at the same time.
People think entrepreneurship is courage — but really it’s waking up terrified and still doing payroll.
I used to be the friend who showed up early, stayed late, grabbed groceries, cleaned kitchens, and made sure everyone else was good.
Now I’m the friend who barely returns phone calls. Not because I don’t care, but because my capacity is stretched thinner than my patience on a Monday.
But this week, people showed up for me in ways that meant everything. Even if it was just 5 minutes to talk something through, or 45 minutes to sweep the floor. That support hit different when you’re used to being the one doing the supporting.
Meanwhile — in the middle of all this chaos — my grandma’s old plant decided to BLOOM. I’ve had it for almost 7 years, and it hasn’t bloomed once. It’s been in our family for over a decade and never showed out… until now.
If you’re a plant person, you know that’s not regular. They only bloom when they’re mature enough and the environment supports it.
The spiritual and ancestral part of me felt that deeply. My grandmother is a woman of faith, discipline, hardwork. For her plant to bloom in this moment felt like a message “you are growing, even in hard seasons.”
The hood part of me was like, “Oh we outside for real.”
The business part of me was like, “Growth in adversity is still growth.”
The healed/healing part of me whispered, “Receive it.”
So here I am — in the ups, downs, grief, triumphs, fear, ambition, laughter, exhaustion, faith, and confusion. Still blooming. Even if it looks wild from the outside.
If you’re in a season like that too, here’s your sign:
You don’t have to be perfect to be growing.
You don’t have to be confident to keep going.
Some seeds sprout in the dark. Some flowers bloom in chaos.
Both still count.
My plant knew before I did, but I’m listening now.
I receive it.
