I was in a meeting one day. Nothing unusual, just a regular room full of colleagues. Afterward, a white coworker walked up to me. Not to the group. To me, specifically. And he told me I spoke very well. I smiled. I said thank you, because that's what you do in the moment, even when something in your spirit doesn't feel quite right. But I knew exactly what that comment was the second it left his mouth. I took it as a jab. Here's why. "You speak so well" is never really about h

I know who I’m becoming. I can see her clearly, more clearly than I could have a year ago. And still, some days, I don’t fully trust her yet. Nobody tells you that part. You’d think once you had the language for who you’re growing into, the tension would ease up. Some of that tension is about other people. There are people in my life who knew an earlier version of me, and I love them for it, but they’re still relating to that version, not the one standing here now. They don’t

We're taught loyalty is a virtue, and it is, until it isn't. Until it becomes the reason you stay in a room you've already outgrown. Until it turns into the excuse you keep giving yourself for not walking through a door that's been standing wide open the whole time. I've been sitting with this a lot lately, thinking about how easily I used to confuse loyalty with faithfulness, when really they're not the same thing at all. There's a version of loyalty I still believe in. Show

I used to think I was pretty good at knowing how I felt about things. Turns out, I was just fast. Fast to react, fast to move on, fast to have an opinion before I'd actually sat with whatever had just happened. It took me a long time to realize that speed and understanding aren't the same thing. This blog is named after the sentence I find myself saying once I've finally slowed down enough to be honest. Not the first reaction, but the one that comes after. The thing is... Tha