BEHIND CLOSED DOORS

 This year, I am choosing newness not in a loud or performative way but in a quiet and intentional one. For a long time, I have lived responsibly. I have shown up for others. I have planned, managed, carried, and poured. Somewhere along the way, curiosity took a back seat. Joy became something I promised myself one day. This year, I decided that one day is now. I am making plans too learn to tap dance not because I want to be good at it but because I want to remember what it feels like to be a beginner. To let my body move without needing to impress anyone. To make noise, miss steps, and still come back. I will be attending plays, musicals, comedy shows, and operas. Sitting in rooms where art is alive. Letting myself be stirred, amused, challenged, and inspired. Sometimes I will go with friends. Sometimes I will go alone. Both matter. I am also caring for parts of myself I used to ignore. Addressing insecurities instead of pretending they do not exist. Microneedling. Lip blush...

 Single, married, divorced, and single again that became the unexpected chapter sequence of my life. In my twenties, I squandered my single season. No guidance, no intentional preparation, no wisdom or discernment. I rushed into marriage, believing love and good intentions would be enough to sustain a covenant that actually requires maturity and understanding. When that marriage ended in divorce, I wasn’t just heartbroken  I was humiliated. I still remember attending a funeral back home in Worcester. I came back home, opened Facebook, and saw a message from a young woman I knew of but had never spoken to. She wrote, “My friend in Virginia said she heard your marriage ended, so I wanted to confirm.” I froze. News of my pain had traveled across states. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. The embarrassment felt louder than my grief. That moment marked the beginning of my unraveling  but also, unknowingly, the beginning of my rebuilding. It took me two full yea...