“The two important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why”-Mark Twain.
Life’s numerical milestones have changed .
I view 46 as 30+ 16 rather than 50-4 Mathematically and philosophically.
46 was a nameless nobody . Turning 46 just meant a step closer to the golden years and nothing more than that.
But now , this previously insignificant number has a whole glamour quotient of its own. A modern day new kinda big deal .
Feeling “ 45+1” or “almost 46” does sorta have a grounding undertone to it. A settling sense of self assuredness.
Chances are at this juncture, you are where you shall be for the rest of your life..atleast in most aspects of your life.
So it’s best to acknowledge all of it , embrace it, celebrate the done-its and get over the have-nots.
My so-called big birthday beckons me in a few days. And I feel fine. In reality, I feel more than just fine.I feel feisty and fine. Each day bringing with it an epiphany of sorts. The realization that aging gracefully means learning to detach and step back . Ironically, learning the art of detachment is not a lesson in learning to let go.
It actually involves quite the opposite. It involves recognizing and holding on to all that is relevant and enriching. And no , age is not just a number. How we wish it was! It is way more layered than that.
Physically, the 45 year old body is not and organically should not be what it used to be . Aging naturally is the sign of a life well lived. Trying to reverse age, is trying to relive a life that wasn’t done right the first time.
Mentally, growing older is freeing. With my absolute abandon and unapologetic arrogance , I sense and honestly quite like the new me emerging-subtle silver streaks, sagginess, striations , self love et all! I feel old enough to recognize my mistakes but young enough to make some more!
So bring on my birthday baby, let the wisdom grow and show! On my face, on my cake!
My dear age-Add those candles with each passing year as you wish, but you can never blow out the fire that gets fiercer every minute within me!

Dear Unsealers,
I don’t ever want to be empowered. Please don’t.
If you give me power, you can take it back.
If you find me in a place where I can’t find my power, help me search.
If you find me in a place where I lack courage, teach me something I couldn’t do before.
If you find me in a place where I have more reasons why I can’t, help me discover why I can.
If you see me sitting with boxes of self doubt, with bags of trauma, with a cart full of other’s opinions of me, don’t tell me what you think.
If you stay along side me, ask me what I can do, ask me how I triumphed over my trauma, what I think of myself.
If I understand what I think of myself, what I can do, and how experiences have created in me a richness of strength and emotion that is uniquely mine.
I will know these things are the rich colors in the tapestry of my life.
I will understand the knowledge of myself is far more accurate and important than the things i am told about me.
I will exercise and give strength to knowledge and the skills, confidence to be myself, in every way.
I will know the power that comes from within. I will give myself permission.
When I know the power of myself it cannot be taken.
Please don’t empower me.

At one point in my life I lived in my safe comfort zone, it was a great space at lease I thought it was, it was a fortress it even came with guard that kept a vigilant watch over my thoughts that occupied my brain telling me constantly that failure would come to me if I tried anything new and my best bet was to stay within the confides of the comfort zone don’t dream don’t envision anything outside the zone.

But I knew that I did not want to live a mediocre life but I wanted a life full of extraordinary things a purposeful life staying in the comfort zone became harder to do when there was much I wanted to do and become. Until one beautiful day I decided to take the leap of faith and drown out the voices that kept me bound stuck in time not moving forward at all. I enrolled in classes at an online university and took he leap to get my Bachelor’s degree in healthcare management, I first enrolled in classes not even having a working lap top computer, I knew I had time to figure that out later the classes were not going to start for another few weeks, but the first step was made I had left the comfort zone. I realized that nothing ventured nothing gained the first step is always the hardest. For the next two years I took my online classes toward my degree. It was an arduous journey faced with obstacles along the way so much happened in those two years, I learned many things about myself it tested my resolve and stretch me to capacity. I thank God for his grace I thanked God that he always sent me to help me with assignments when I have confused he sprinkled help along the way, I received support from family and friends that encouraged me when I wanted to quit and give up when the hills where to high and valleys were too low, they kept on track when I wanted to retreat and run back to the comfy zone closer to the shore, not out the middle where the tides and the currents where not always in my favor. Last year I graduated with my bachelor’s degree in healthcare management class of 2023,

What I learned along my educational journey and leaving my comfort zone: is the first step is absolutely the hardest and that no matter what I have something that nobody can take from me, and that knowledge in myself knowing that I can be anything I want to be and move forward no matter how small the step that I can have a purposeful life where I can help other people along this journey and that the next chapter of my story will be better than my first. To God is the glory the author and finisher of my fate.

When I was younger, I was enthusiastic about becoming an adult. I remember accompanying my mother to the stores and appreciating the attractiveness of women, notably those wearing high heels. I couldn’t wait to wear high heels someday, seeing them as a mark of elegance and maturity. However, as I grew older, being a woman quickly became a maze of anxiety and doubts. High heels went from emblems of grace to traps, rendering me too unstable to flee from danger.

I used to love happy meals with colourful boxes and amusing toys, but now every meal feels like a battlefield, with each mouthful swallowing every single thought in my mind.
I used to refrain from applying makeup because I felt desirable without it, but now I pile it on like a cheesecake, with each layer acting as a mask to conceal my actual nature.
As a child, I used to fall asleep at night fantasising about becoming an adult and falling in love, but I soon realised that love is unexpected and frequently chaotic.
The clothing I’m wearing now seems like chains, and I wish I could burn off my skin to relieve the misery.
My lips never feel full enough, my brows never look right, and the scars on my body convey things I’d rather forget.
My small love handles, once a source of innocence, now seem like anchors dragging me down.

Being a woman seems like walking a tightrope, with each step posing the risk of falling.
It’s a dance in a hall of mirrors, and each reflection changes my perception of myself.
I’m always balancing expectations, attempting to come to terms with who I want to be with and who society expects me to be.
My body feels like a battleground, and I’m fatigued from fighting.

The transition from childhood to maturity can be compared to traversing a deserted space, where the illusion of who I believed I would become vanishes with each step. My childhood dreams have faded into shadows under the harsh light of reality. I’m just tired of navigating this maze, where every path appears to lead to a dead end.

I am the girl that can come off a bit clingy
Often scaring those who cross my path.
My thoughts may seem a bit stringy
Coming off to one like a bloodbath.
I will shoot for the stars
Providing those I love with my support.
Depending who looks you can see the scars
This makes some want to abort.
Giving my all with folks that let her through
As they becoming a part of the life.
There are pieces only few knew
I will occasionally show it all within a rife.
No one can tell me who I am
I do not follow a diagram.

Dear Tay,

Two disclaimers about this piece before I shoot my shot: actually, three. This is not a letter to Taylor Swift, not a ploy to be your man, and I am not calling you Tay to embarrass you!

So, who am I talking about? Two people, Taylor Rooks and Joy Taylor, both of whom are Black women in sports.

When thinking of these women, I won’t lie, they are very physically attractive and some may claim that this is why they are on TV.

They recently collaborated, co-hosting their podcast called Two Personal. Rooks and Taylor do a great job at their “daily job”(talking about sports) and giving a voice to others to express themselves.

In this joint venture, the duo are unfiltered, authentically highlighting the ups and downs of being a minority, especially in the sports world where being judged for superficial characteristics is the norm.

In the first few episodes, they have discussed topics that are, well… personal.

The episodes have included subjects such as pregnancy.

The theme of each episode is not why I am attracted to it, it’s that my personal takeaway is:

No matter what sport they are covering, the leading story about Tayx2 is not about the work the women do in the sports arena, to me, they portray that being a proud Black woman is what they want people to talk about when the conversation about them starts.

I’ve stated this before: sports was a way for me to hold my emotions in, and yes, you would be pretty hard-pressed to convince me that the final seconds of a game where the 16 seed has a chance to push off the 1 seed from “the dance floor” (March Madness pun) is not more heart-throbbing than when the final rose is given out in the Bachelor series.

But the two can co-exist.

So, thank you Joy and Taylor for showing that talking about the final few seconds of the game does not have to be substituted for talking about the first few seconds of my life. They can be on the same team “dancing” together!

Much Love & Respect,

Jake April

Photo credit: Two Personal Instagram Page

Outward beauty is fleeting

Taken away by the years

Like waves brushing sand back into the sea

But a beautiful souls never fades

It shines brighter, like a perennial diamond, as the years progress

When our outward mask fades away

The beautiful soul can be seen, fully, in all its splendor

Why do we confuse physical beauty with permanence,

When we know full well its ephemeral nature?

Why not, instead, seek to make ourselves beautiful on the inside,

And have that live forever?

Dear Unsealers,

Over the past two years, on the first of every month, I’ve made it a habit to carry 10+ envelopes in my purse. Each envelope stuffed with prayers and a gift card, intended for random single mothers I encounter while running errands or out on the town. These prayers are meant to provide them with encouragement and hope, assuring them that brighter days lie ahead if they just keep their faith. There’s also a prayer for them to find a trustworthy companion who will love, honor, and become a wonderful addition to their family (the hopeless romantic in me!).

The gift cards, usually valued at $25 and sometimes even $50 when I can, are meant to assist with any expenses or needs they may have. While it may not seem like a lot of money, I can attest from my own personal experience as a single mom that it can help. See, there were times when extreme hardship was no stranger to me, so I know that $25 can make a significant difference and offer the break someone may desperately need. These gift cards can be utilized for various purposes, such as gas, food, toiletries, school fees for their children, toilet paper, laundry detergent, or simply to help them get by until their next paycheck (ask me how I know!).

Often, these are items that many of us take for granted, oblivious to how scarce they can be for others. Having been in their shoes, I understand the struggles and hardships of single mothers. As an etiquette consultant, I firmly believe in the significance of extending compassion and courtesy to others – that is my mission. That is why I made a vow that as soon as I achieved greater financial stability, to extend help to single mothers facing the same challenges I once had.

As part of The Unsealed’s Empowered Women letter project, my hope is that my story empowers others to lend a hand to single mothers they may know or even those they don’t. The challenges faced by single mothers surpass what I could have ever written in this short letter, but it is important to realize that by assisting the mothers, you are making a great impact on their children’s lives as well.

May you be blessed for your compassionate actions!

A Message to My Single Mommies:

Girl, I know it’s tough, but hang in there and do not give up! Through prayer, meditation, and a good darn therapist you will make it. I understand that not every single mother’s challenges are related to finances, that just so happens to be my experience. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that getting with good support groups to connect with other women who share your story can provide you with a sense of ease. It could be very therapeutic, and something as simple as non-communication may forfeit us a great deal of peace. Talk through it; it helps more than you know!

Dear Madison,
As you know, television news is an intense business. Murders, fires, funerals, anything you can shake a stick at… and those are the first 10 minutes of the newscast most nights.

However, there’s also a lot of negativity about how the news is presented. The heavy politicization of news can take its toll on any anchor person, no matter who it is.

However, despite the negativity that journalists get on a daily basis, your talent shines through, day in, day out. Your station is lucky to have you.

Any station in the country would be lucky to have you. I’m very fortunate that you and I are in the Youngstown Press Club together. When you and I took that selfie together, I knew this was the start of a great friendship.

As someone on the autism spectrum, making new friends is oftentimes easier said than done, but you were very warm and welcoming to me when we met at the Christmas party.

Bottom line: Madison, you are so damn talented.