What did I learn today? Lessons on the Journey to Unconditional Self Love

  I am safe. I choose discernment over fear. I trust myself to stay. What Does “Uncommitted” Mean to Me? I’ve been sitting with this word lately—uncommitted. Not in the dictionary sense, but in the way it lands in my body. To me, it means someone who jumps ship when something shinier comes along. Someone who abandons the cause, the conversation, the community—without warning, without weight. It’s not about them, really. It’s about how I feel when it happens. I’ve noticed that when people around me act uncommitted, I react. I cut them off. I move on. I tell myself I’m protecting my peace, but underneath that is a deeper truth: I want to feel safe. And when someone leaves, I feel abandoned. I’ve been learning not to take things personally. I’ve been practicing self-awareness—not to judge myself because when I don't judge myself I don't judge others, but to understand the why behind my reactions. So now, when I feel that sting of someone pulling away, I ask: • Are you safe? • ...

  Rooted Series | A 4-week online immersion begins October 5 There’s a quiet revolution unfolding—and it begins with you. I created Rooted for the woman who’s ready to stop shrinking. For the one who’s tired of betraying herself to belong. For the one who knows that joy is not frivolous—it’s revolutionary. This 4-week online immersion is a homecoming to your truth, your boundaries, your joy. Each week, we’ll explore a theme that invites you to return to yourself with grace and clarity:  Week 1: Rooted in Self-Awareness  Week 2: Rooted in Courage & Joy Week 3: Rooted in Boundaries  Week 4: Rooted in Belonging  We begin October 5. Registration opens soon. For now, save the date—and begin listening for the yes inside you. Peace and Blessings Akosua Dardaine Save Your Spot

In the presence of eternity, the mountains are as transient as the clouds . Robert Green Ingersoll Sunday mornings have taken on a new rhythm. A new challenge. I lace up my shoes, press play on my soca playlist, and head out into what we lovingly call “the bush.” Trees stretch tall like elders, rivers hum low like secrets, and the bike trails twist and turn like stories waiting to be told. It’s absolutely lovely. And it’s mine. I stopped running just before Covid. A shoulder injury slowed me down, and then the world did too. But now, I’m back. And soca—sweet, pulsing, unapologetic soca—has become the soundtrack to my return. Without it, I feel lost. Slow. Like I’ve forgotten the beat of my own body. But this morning was different. As I ran deeper into the bush, off the road and into the quiet, I felt a tug. Not in my shoulder, but in my spirit. A gentle nudge to take the music off. To be present. . To run without distraction. To run with myself. And so I did. The run continued, but som...