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

  Affirmation: I honor the footsteps that came before me, and I plant seeds of dignity, joy, and legacy with every step I take. Brasilia held me in a way I did not expect. I arrived as part of the me too Global Network delegation, invited to join the March for Reparations and Good Living in Brazil and Beyond. In the days leading up to the march, the city pulsed with gatherings, workshops, and meetings—spaces alive with pride, love, and purpose. Every conversation carried weight, every activity stitched together a fabric of solidarity. I felt myself being called higher. To pay attention not only to how I show up in the NiNa program, but how I show up in the world. There were women who who had been advocating for dignity and equal rights long before I was even imagined, our ancestors. Their footsteps laid the path I now walk. And with that realization came a quiet accountability: how I live my life must honor them. This is my time to plant seeds, to tend the garden left for me. Brazi...

Affirmation:  I honor my effort, even when it feels imperfect. Every stumble is a step toward strength, every misstep a lesson in resilience. I prepare with intention, I present with courage, and I forgive myself with grace. I am growing, I am learning, and I am enough  Life has a way of throwing us into moments we think we’re ready for—until we’re standing there, heart racing, words tangled, wishing we could disappear. Today was one of those moments for me. I had a presentation to give. I knew about it, I prepared for it, but when the time came… I froze. I was nervous, I mumbled, I stumbled through my slides. Honestly, I was just bad. And it hurt, because being chosen to present meant something to me. It felt like an opportunity, and I wanted to rise to it. Instead, I wanted to cry. But here’s the thing: I didn’t run. I pulled myself together, faced the music, and let the experience humble me. That’s the part I’m holding onto. From this day forward, I’m making a vow—not just ...

 Affirmation: I release the cages I have built around myself. I welcome support, connection, and abundance into my life. I choose freedom over fear, expansion over limitation, and love over self-abandonment. Each day, I open the gates wider and step into the fullness of who I am I was reading Briana Wiest, one of my favorite truth tellers, I had to pause after reading this “Some of us build our own cages and live within them because we think it keeps us safe.” Safe. That word echoed. And I immediately asked myself: what cages have I built? What stories do I keep telling myself — and others — that convince me it’s safer to stay locked inside than to step out into freedom? Fear, uncertainty, ignorance, inherited beliefs… they all become bricks in the walls of our self-made prisons. It was humbling, almost jarring, to look into the mirror of Self and realize: the prisons we build are often harder to leave than the ones imposed on us. Bob Marley said it best: “None but ourselves can fr...

  Affirmation :I stay with myself. I breathe. I feel. I return If I’m being honest—and I try to be, especially with myself—my coping mechanism is scrolling the internet and isolating. There it is. Named. Not judged, just seen. Coping mechanisms are curious things. They’re meant to help us shift our attention, to soften the edges of what feels too sharp in the moment. And sometimes, they do just that. They offer a pause, a breath, a buffer. But the trouble begins when the pause becomes a pattern. When the buffer becomes a barrier. When the thing we’re avoiding—grief, fear, uncertainty, even joy—gets buried beneath the scroll, the snack, the spreadsheet, the sweat, the silence. We all have our go-tos. Work. Exercise. Food. Shopping. Sex. Relationships. Binge-watching. The list is long and familiar. The question isn’t whether we cope. It’s how. And whether the how is helping us return to ourselves—or pulling us further away. For me, the internet offers a kind of numbing hum. A place w...

Affirmation: I give myself permission to grow, even when it’s uncomfortable. I trust the process, honor my pace, and welcome curiosity as my guide. I am allowed to begin again.    Are we willing to give ourselves permission to do a new thing? Not the kind of permission that comes with guarantees or applause. But the quiet, trembling kind. The kind that whispers, “go ahead and do it,” even when the outcome is uncertain. The kind that invites curiosity, even when clarity hasn’t arrived. To give ourselves permission, we must first look at what we’re holding on to. What beliefs have become our safety nets, our shields, our stories? Maybe it’s the belief that we must always be seen to be worthy. Maybe it’s the belief that keeping the peace is more important than speaking our truth. Maybe it’s the belief that mistakes are failures, not teachers. I want to give myself permission to let go of needing to be seen. To let go of the role of peacekeeper when peace costs my presence. To mak...

Affirmation: I honor the ache and the effort. I trust the timing. I release what is not mine to carry. What is for me will not pass me by—and I meet it with grace, not grasping. Have you ever wanted something so deeply it felt like your whole being was leaning into it? Like you could taste it, touch it, see it solving everything that felt heavy and uncertain? I had that moment today. This consultancy job—I wanted it with all my heart. In my mind, it was the answer to the financial strain I’ve been carrying, the quiet erosion of confidence I hadn’t even realized had taken root. It would pay off debts, restore some ease, remind me of who I am when I’m standing tall. And yet, everywhere I turned, there were blocks. First the references. Then the health insurance. Then another thing. And another. Today, the final delay came—the insurance was taking longer than expected, and time was running out. And something shifted. In the past, I would’ve gone straight into solution mode. Who has time t...

Affirmation: I learn, I share, I rise—with my sisters, for my sisters.  I was invited to join the Global Me Too Movement in crafting a manifesto for Latin America and the Caribbean—one that centers survivors, demands justice, and imagines healing as both personal and political. We gathered in a circle of fierce tenderness, where truth was spoken, held, and honored. To be part of this global moment—as the quiet one, the motif-maker, the dreamer of Nina-sized visions—was nothing short of miraculous. I showed up real, and real met me back. The pride and gratitude I felt were unmatched. It’s still sinking in. But what moved me most was the camaraderie. The way we laughed, cried, translated across languages and lived experiences. I learned so much about Latin America’s passionate feminist principles—rooted in resistance, joy, and unwavering solidarity. These women, these grassroots organizations, continue to show up for their sisters with grit and grace, demanding justice and building s...

Affirmation:   I honor the storm and the stillness. I choose presence over resistance, and trust the pivot. I have been in Mexico for the past few days. It has been eye-opening. Not just for the beauty of the place, but for the depth of the gathering. I’m here among comrades of the cause—women who speak the same language of justice, healing, and fierce love. The room is full of those working to end gender-based and sexual violence, to support migrant women, girls in State care, and to dismantle inequality in all its forms . There’s something sacred about being in a space where your truth doesn’t need translation. We’ve spent days exchanging ideas, building trust, and practicing self-care—which, let’s be honest, is the heartbeat of this movement. Without it, we burn out. With it, we rise. Today, we were meant to convene on the beach. A meeting with the ocean as witness. But as we got ready, the storm came—thunder, lightning, the whole dramatic symphony. Talk about a pivot? We had no...

Affirmation:  Obedience to the Most High's guidance is a form of trust Each month, I begin with an intention—a quiet compass I carry with me through the month. It’s not a resolution or a checklist, but a reminder of what I’m choosing to root into. This November, my intention is to deepen my relationship with the Most High. To listen more closely. To trust more fully. And most of all, to cultivate the courage to be obedient to the guidance I receive. I’ve noticed a pattern in myself: the guidance often comes clearly. A nudge. A knowing. A quiet instruction. And yet, I stall. I rationalize. I ask for proof. I want certainty that the outcome will match my expectations, that the leap will land exactly where I want it to. But guidance rarely works that way. It’s not a transaction—it’s a trust walk. This month, I’m choosing to follow the guidance. Even when it stretches me. Even when it asks me to leave the comfort of what’s familiar. Even when I don’t know how it will all unfold. I’m ch...