It began on a cold January day,
When my father’s soul was called away.
A part of me shattered, a piece was lost,
A pain so deep, it came at a cost.

I was finding myself, a path so clear,
Losing weight, routines I held dear.
Yet his passing left me stuck in time,
Trapped in grief’s unyielding climb.

I buried the pain, went back to the grind,
Work became the shelter for my mind.
Two weeks later, I stood so strong,
But my heart knew something was wrong.

I ended love with a heavy heart,
The first who loved me from the start.
Then stumbled into arms not true,
Grief hid the pain I never worked through.

December came, a cruel, dark plight,
My prayed-for baby lost in the night.
I woke to emptiness deep inside,
And once again, I let work collide.

A prison filled with chaos and strife,
I hid my wounds in the noise of life.
My uncle passed; I worked again,
Ignoring the ache that wouldn’t end.

But this year, God had other plans,
He placed me still in His guiding hands.
Isolation forced my soul to see,
The grief I buried lived in me.

I ended love that wasn’t pure,
Set boundaries strong, began to endure.
Day by day, the healing grows,
Progress comes, though the journey’s slow.

I am learning to feel, to grieve, to cope,
To find in sorrow a seed of hope.
Though the pain is great, I see the light,
Step by step, I reclaim my fight.

For grief may linger, but I am strong,
In my heart, my father’s love lives on.
Through every loss, I rise anew,
Healing, growing, becoming true.

My grief began on January 20th, 2020, the day my dad passed away unexpectedly. His death shook my world to its core. Before he passed, I was on a journey of self-discovery. I was losing weight, exercising, building routines, and trying to figure out who I was. At the time, I was still in a relationship I knew I needed to leave, and I thought I was getting closer to freeing myself from it. But when my dad died, it felt like a part of me died with him. I had never been without him, and I didn’t know how to live without his presence in my life.

Instead of facing my grief, I did what I always did: I went back to work two weeks later. Work became my way of coping—a distraction from the deep pain I didn’t want to confront. This became a pattern in my life. Whenever tragedy or loss struck, I buried myself in work to avoid the pain.

After my dad passed, I ended a long relationship with someone I deeply loved—the first person who ever loved me correctly. From there, I found myself in relationships I never should have been in, all while grieving and ignoring the emotions I desperately needed to face.

Then, on December 10, 2021, I faced another devastating loss: the baby I had prayed for passed away. I woke up that day with my baby still inside me, no longer alive. I had to go to the hospital to have my child removed, and after that heart-wrenching experience, I went right back to work—this time at the prison where I was employed. That environment was already filled with stress and negativity—not just from the inmates but from the staff as well. Yet, I threw myself back into work instead of confronting my grief.

More loss followed. My dad’s brother passed, and once again, I buried the pain under work. But this year, God made me sit down. He placed me in a season of isolation where I couldn’t run from my emotions anymore. I had to deal with everything I had been avoiding: the grief, the unhealthy patterns, and the trauma I had been carrying for years.

I ended a three-year relationship, began setting boundaries, and started addressing the pain I had ignored for so long. Day by day, I’ve been working through it. It hasn’t been easy, but with each step, it’s getting better. I’m learning that healing is a process, and I’m finally allowing myself to feel, to grieve, and to grow.

This year has been about progress. While I still have a long way to go, I know I’m moving in the right direction. And for that, I am grateful.

Hey girl,

I wanted to take a moment to talk to you. First, let me tell you—it’s okay to not speak like everyone else. You don’t have to fit into anyone else’s mold. There are so many people just like you, navigating attention struggles, dealing with depression, and feeling different. You are not alone. And you are not defined by the wrong touch you experienced at a young age—that was not your fault.

You can be yourself, unapologetically. You are not ugly—you are beautiful. You are love. You don’t have to carry the weight of your mother’s trauma or live out your parents’ dreams. You deserve to live for you. There will be people who like you just as you are. That smile of yours? It’s radiant, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

It’s okay to learn differently, to move at your own pace. It’s okay to let go of the things and people that don’t serve you. Anita, it’s okay to live. It’s okay to live your life and forgive the past.

And Anita, about your dad—I know he was a protector and a provider, and you admired him for the way he took care of things. But you don’t need to look for men who remind you of him, especially the parts of him that don’t align with your heart. You don’t need a man who carries the same wildness or chaos. What fits your soul is peace, patience, and understanding.

Be patient, baby girl. Everything God has for you is coming. You don’t need to carry the world on your shoulders or save everyone around you. Focus on saving and loving yourself.

You’re worthy of every good thing this life has to offer. I love you, boo.

With love and belief in you,
Your Older Self

Through storms and shadows, I’ve walked this path,
Enduring the cruelty, enduring the wrath.
Bullied in silence, torn apart inside,
Yet I stood tall, with God as my guide.

Called names that cut, bruised by their words,
Misunderstood like a song unheard.
They mocked how I learn, how my mind is wired,
But their taunts could never steal what I’ve aspired.

Through autism’s lens, I see the world,
With ADHD, my thoughts have swirled.
Yet in my chaos, I found my grace,
Smiling through tears, I embraced my place.

A mother of two, with love as my shield,
Through sleepless nights, I refused to yield.
In a prison’s walls, where stress runs high,
I worked, I thrived, beneath a burdened sky.

They called me ugly, tried to dim my light,
But I held on, I fought the fight.
I didn’t give up, I rose from the pain,
Like flowers that bloom after the rain.

Dear me, you are beauty, you are strength,
Your heart beats bold, at any length.
For women like you, who feel unseen,
You’ve proven to be their radiant queen.

Grateful I stand, for the woman I’ve grown,
Resilient, unbroken, I’ve made life my own.
Through faith and fire, I’ve learned to see,
The endless power that lies in me.