I had a completely different plan for today’s post which was much more zen and Guru like. But if there is anything I pride myself on is realness, and I probably would have fluffed the post if I stuck to my guns just put it out, and we are not about that life over here. This week’s post is sponsored by my anger, an emotion I have never been given permission to express so doesn’t have the best reputation.

Being a massive advocate of finding your centre, I understand it isn’t about emotions flowing in extremes but achieving balance. however, I am a bigger believer in the truth. Amd truth is, we have been socialised to assume that anger is a luxury we cannot afford. If you are a black woman it is even more heavily weaponised as it comes across as  a threat, instead of a reasonable response.

Angry for a Reason

I often blame my caribbean heritage, or the East London girl culture. But the passion burning inside of me is often fueled by rage. When you are you are always the person with the plan, the person who “thugs it out”, and the person who keeps the wheels turning. You are often denied the right to be human and respond appropriately when these actions are not reciprocated.

Expressing anger is rarely seen as a valid reaction to injustice or hurt. Instead, it is immediately turned against us. The minute we raise our voice, or even just set a firm boundary with a “tone”, all the actions behind the incident are forgotten and the reaction is them focal point. As a result we end up swallowing whatever we are feeling. We turn that fire inward and become masters of “calculated calm”.

The Cost of Humility

As I have said before energy is reciprocal and also indestructible. Anger that has nowhere to go doesn’t disappear, it finds a new home often manifesting in the body. For many of us, the cost of not truly expressing ourselves shows up in ways we don’t recognise;

• Physical Fatigue: The heaviness in your chest isn’t just stress related, it is the weight of unsaid words
• The Help Barrier: When you close the door on seeking help because of past disappointment, this is often anger disguised as independence
• Emotional Numbness: When you mute your negative emotions you are also silencing your joy. It is impossible to selectively numb your heart

It can be easy to feel this emotion and misuse it’s energy. When we look at it from a logical perspective your anger is information. This very intelligent emotion is making you aware that somewhere you have forgotten to make yourself a priority, where you were disrespected, or where you have been giving way more than you have been receiving.

For those like me who had no choice but to grow up independent, your default is probably composure as a mode of protection. But keeping that shield up 24/7 is a very lonely way to live. So to anyone who has been holding it down, keeping a smile on your face while your soul is screaming: You have a right to be mad. It is okay to feel the sting of being let down. You are allowed to release composure in rooms that don’t respect your humanity.

Reality is you should never have to apologise for veing yourself. Anger is a valid emotion not a character flaw. Don’t burn bridges everytime a boundary is crossed, feel the sting of being let down and let em have it…. respectfully 😅

I have come to the conclusion that I am way too humble. Last born and one of the babies amongst cousinship I never had the spirit of courageousness. For anybody who is a part of my private life, you may be confused. As a self professed loudmouth, you never see me coming. You hear me. But if you know me personally you know I am better at lifting people up than believing in my abilities to do whatever I put my mind to.

As I recently got lost in one of my deep reflective moments. I was thinking about all the Joe’s and Josephine Bloggs, who have had no formal training in a trade or specific skill. Yet have had the audacity and passion to dare to try something new and have excelled at it. I have a long list of things I would like to do or experience in my life, but if I am being honest with myself I probably will only try 25% of those things. Mainly due to fear. But, partly because how do the young people of today say it “my heart don’t beat like that”. Basically I am way too cautious. And although this has kept me safe over the years, what is a life without some positive risk taking?

This has shown me that it is about time I learned the spirit of audacity. The Britannica dictionary defines audacity as “a confident and daring quality that is often seen as shocking or rude”. If you ask me being audacious gets a bad rep. It is often viewed negatively as reckless. Rather, it should be seen as adventurous enough to do the things others are too frightened to see through.

As I come to the close of Mel Robbins popular book “Let Them”, I was personally motivated by a section in the book. It is actually about not letting others take advantage of you. She writes that a lot of people believe they are an exception to the rule. They constantly think that whatever risky thing they are going to do will work out in their favour. Although it seems extremely main character syndromish, there is something special about having this notion be a guiding principle. So what that your mother didn’t make it as a dancer. No your father wasn’t able to become an entrepreneur. But why does that mean you can’t conquer and defeat the odds?

As powerful as I have always known myself to be I realised I am not someone who who can see a 50/50 situation and go at it as if it will 100% pull through . What has always pumped the breaks for me is what I like to name as my strong spiritual connection. This has always made me think that the universe will choose me to make an example out of. For example, I remember as a teen. Everyone was lying to their parents about where they were going on weekends. I always thought that if I lied about my whereabouts, I would get caught up in a crazy bank heist. It would get broadcast on the news. My mum would find out I lied. I would still be grounded today. This could probably happen. But in hindsight I never went to any banks back then because I was a brokey.

I am in love with having a spirit of audacity as it goes beyond being brave. Often worn as the guise of “fake it till you make it” but it is much deeper than that. You truly have to believe that the only option is for you to make it, that betting it all on black is going to give you the winning result. Those who were gifted with an audacious soul don’t harbor that ever growing seed of doubt. If doubt does attempt to root itself through the discouraging ideas of the outside world, it is quickly cut down. Their internal compass is set persistently on success as an absolute certainty, not merely as hope. Audacity is the conviction that your vision is already realised. This confidence leads them to demand nothing less than the extraordinary both from the world and the world around them.

When we think about it life really is just a series of choices. There really is no wrong or right because each decision brings you to a level of understanding that never existed. We get so caught up in doing the right thing, that we forget that in order to truly learn we have to try something out without knowing what the outcome might be.

I don’t believe that there is ever one way to see the world. Not everything needs to be the logical decision. Refusing to be confined by one conventional way of understanding empowers us. It grants us the ability to trust our own instincts. We can trust opportunity where others only see risk. This is what gives people the determination to take calculated risks. With self awareness to guide it. This mindset becomes a powerful force. It clears obstacles and builds success from nothing. This proves that a unique and tenacious vision is more valuable than rigid compliance to the known.

What can you do today that would take one step closer to claiming the spirit of audacity?

I am not just about to leave my job, but disconnecting from everything related to the “career girl” I was raised to be. Shedding the identity that was meticulously crafted by society, expectations, and if I’m being truly honest with myself my own relentless drive for external validation. Stepping, no perhaps free falling into the vast labelled entity of the universe. And for the first time in my life I have no elevator pitch in a bid to reconnect with the life I constantly dream of.

I have written about this a few times, and if you have been reading the blog for a while you will know this decision has not been taken lightly. This has been a heavy, multi year deep dive of my core values, a constant tug of war between the life that didn’t fit my soul, and the path to happiness that has been the subject of countless journals and many tearful conversations.

What I am saying is that sometimes in order to reconnect with your purpose, you must disconnect from everything you believed would get you there. Step back from the quote on quote stable life and re-embrace the simple joys of living. When we took time to converse face to face with the ones we love.The problem with this is that it doesn’t equal solidity. However, safe doesn’t always equal happiness, but most importantly disconnects you from the best parts of the world. Have you ever been sitting on a train going home from work mindlessly scrolling on social media and even the funniest video doesn’t brighten your soul? or randomly had a conversation with a stranger that affirms something you have been too scared to admit?

A couple of weeks ago I almost slipped into western sensibility when speaking with a colleague about my next steps or lack there of. I walked away from that conversation feeling the gravitational pull of the “what’s next?” question, the pressure to reignite the five year plan or at least a concrete, respectable side hustle. In that conversation I almost believed I was making a mistake. I heard myself thinking that maybe, just maybe, I should swallow my pride, ask for my job back and settle for the safe predictable discomfort of my old life. (FYI: This is reason 2,567 as to why you keep your biggest, scariest, most sacred plans to yourself until they are irreversible). The panic was palpable because it was a feeling entirely foreign to me. All my previous departures from a job was always a move up. A lateral step for more money, a vertical leap for a better title, or a strategic pivot for higher career opportunity. Not only was it calculable but always an achievement I could neatly package and present to the world.

This time, the move is for me. It’s for my sanity. My health. My wellbeing. It is purely an act of preservation. And at times, the voice of the old “career girl”has been loud and insistent, screaming that something as simple as wellbeing is not a good enough reason to abandon a secure life. It is an ongoing process to truly believe that my souls peace is the only currency that matters.

I like to say that meeting my fiancè was the moment I realised my life needed to change. He created a soft landing spot, a safe harbour where I could finally drop the façade of being “fine” and truly address my chronic unhappiness. But if I am being completely honest I knew I was on the wrong path at the tender age of 19 when I was in University and wanted to move to America to start a completely new life. While I am glad that dramatic, ill conceived plan didn’t happen, the impulse behind it was real. I have been craving disconnection partly because I wanted to runaway from the mounting relentless pace of the western world. But mostly because I felt like I was starting to lose myself entirely. The person I saw in the mirror every morning was stressed out. My inner world had become so neglected that I was starting to feel like a stranger in my own skin.

As I have started to move away from the stereotypical concepts of tiring myself out in the rat race, I have found that prioritising quality connection has a more profound affect on accessing the lifestyle one strives to meet. Switch staying at the office late with catching up with friends, pick up a new hobby, join that running club sitting in your Instagram saved posts. Hell, do anything but veg out in front of the tv watching that Netflix rom com hoping your life was as exciting and chaotic as theirs.

No matter how loud the court of public opinion may sound you have got the make the choice that you believe is best for you, sometimes that means stepping away from all you have built to attain the lifestyle that feeds your soul.

Ps. All credit for the inspiration behind this post goes to @uniquebestt whose painting is the feature image

I was speaking with my therapist recently and as I recounted the events over the last week, the topic of discussion landed on a recurring theme in my life. A quiet unshakeable sense of knowing that has always been with me, the fact that I have always been able to sense what the right thing to do long before logic can catch up, as if it is a superpower I could never quite name. She asked me if I knew what that was and I answered Discernment feeling both foreign and familiar.

The Weight of a Word

The Oxford dictionary describes Discernment as “the ability to show good judgement about somebody or something”. a simple enough phrase. However, for me has always felt so loaded It was a common theme in my days in the church held up as a spiritual gift I was convinced I wasn’t good enough to achieve. Ironically, in the real world it was one quality everyone seemed to assume I possess.

This conflict has defied much of my life. I have not always leaned into my discerning spirit. For years, I was haunted by the feeling that I didn’t fit in anywhere. That deep rooted fear led to some extremely cringeworthy memories where adopted behaviours so alien to my character, all in a desperate attempt not necessarily to be praised by the crowd I was with but to evade the discomfort of being the odd one out. Each time it felt like I was going against the grain of my soul, and ultimately becoming someone I didn’t like nor recognise.

Reframing a Worn Out Label

I’ve always hated being labelled as “sensitive”. In a world that rewards stoicism, the first word that comes to mind is weak and that is a term I have never wanted to be branded with. But as I have grown I’ve realised my sensitivity isn’t about softness or easily hurt feelings. It’s an ability that allows me to sense the subtle shifts in a room that nobody else notices. And why words left unsaid often sound like a blaring alarm in my mind.

Most importantly, it’s the intuitive gut level pull I feel when a situation is profoundly right or wrong for me way before my brain can produce a tidy list of pro’s and con’s. Like a silent guardian that works even when I try to ignore it, saving me from making some truly catastrophic decisions.

The Compass and the Courage

For those who follow personality frameworks, in the terms of Meyer Briggs I am an ENFJ. The J stands for judging, and I tried to denounce this part of me as the humanistic side of me wanted to denounce having a judgemental spirit. But this is not about being judgemental of others, it means a primary way of navigating the world by feeling situations out. Call it an internal compass used to find your way.

The problem was never a lack of direction from the compass itself, the gut feeling has always been clear and present. The issue was having the courage to follow it.

When you think about it we all have a discerning nature however the difference is whether we are trusting it that it can make wise decisions for us. Having a finely tuned instrument is only half the story. Discernment isn’t just about sensing the information our traditional senses miss. True discernment is what we choose to do with it. That feeling in the pit of your stomach is not something to ignore, trusting that inner knowledge no one else understands can take you that step closer to what you dream of, or save you from making a choice that could have a steep cost.

When you rarely hear a differing narrative it is easy to assume that what you are feeling isn’t right. Sometimes that answer you have been seeking is deep within you.

I have just come back from a trip to see my fiancé, (saying that never gets old) and I have never felt more at ease. Upon reaching the final week, which I decided to use the remaining time for some greatly needed reflection, I found myself doubting everything I thought I knew about life.

I tried to pin down the source of this incredible feeling. My initial thoughts were:

1. Being reunited with your partner will always add that extra love you have desperately needed.
2. Holidays are always great because it’s always great to get away from the mundane routine that working and living provide.
3. The sun is a massive motivator for us all.

I am not sure what it was, but all these conclusions were not satisfying the euphoric experience I was having, until I reached one. I was having fun.

Now, you will all stop at this point thinking “but I hope you would be having fun if you paid for a vacation”. And you are right. There is only one holiday I have been on that was a complete disaster, and it was the experience that got me into travelling solo. But this was very different.

Usually when I go back home to see my man, it is centered around us just being in each other’s company, sprinkled with some fun activities here and there. However, on this occasion we travelled across the island and pretty much said yes to every opportunity presented to us, even if we were utterly exhausted. I even had a last minute scramble on my final day, rushing to the airport to squeeze out every possible moment of fun before a late flight.

If you know me well, you know I am an extremely safe and consistent person. Although it has been a great part of getting me to where I am today, I lost some vital parts of my character which are essential to pushing me further in life. Growing up, one of my family nicknames was Peter Pan. For those who missed the original story, or the Disney adaptation, Peter is a fictional character who was once a normal child and ran away to Neverland in a bid to avoid growing old and dying. He encourages kids from the real world to join him on his quests to defeat his pirate nemesis and play with him forever. As a child I resonated with Peter, not because I wanted to live forever, but because I knew that childhood was the ultimate experience of fun.

Somewhere along the way, I forgot about Peter. I traded Neverland for a meticulously planned calendar. I swapped adventure for security and spontaneity for stability. This trip was different because for the first time in a long time, I let that inner child lead. I said yes not just to activities, but to a feeling. I agreed to being silly, to staying out late, and to embracing the glorious unknown.

Unfortunately, this happens to so many of us. We graduate, get jobs, pay bills, and slowly but surely, build a life that is very sensible and incredibly safe. Convincing ourselves that this is maturity. We believe that being a responsible adult means putting playfulness in a box and storing it in the attic.

But fun is not the opposite of responsibility. Joy is not the enemy of progress. That spark, that Peter Pan spirit, is not something to outgrow. It is the very thing that fuels our creativity, resilience, and passion. It is the vital part of our character that pushes us further.

So, my advice is this. Do not let adulthood ruin your life. Do not let its routines and expectations dull your shine. Say yes to that random coffee invitation. Take a different route home from work. Put on music and dance in your kitchen. Find your Neverland, even if it is just for a moment each day.

Because growing up is mandatory, but growing old, in spirit, is entirely optional.

For a long time, I struggled with my identity. I’ve always been that extremely happy girl dreaming of sunshine and daisies, but the world hasn’t always reflected that back to me. Scratch that, most times my happy-go-lucky mixed with the “tell it as we see it” vibe has only been flavor of the month when it agrees with another’s rhetoric.

I’m that girl everyone wants on their defense team, the one who’ll stand up for what’s right, offer a listening ear, and bring a much-needed dose of optimism. But when it’s their turn to do the listening, to offer the same understanding or support, everything changes. The energy I freely give often isn’t reciprocated, and I’m left feeling drained and, frankly, a little used. It’s got me thinking: it’s about time I started putting a cost on my energy.

Now, I’m not talking about charging my friends for a coffee catch up, or sending an invoice for a heart-to-heart. This isn’t about monetary value. It’s about recognising the immense value of my emotional, mental, and physical energy and protecting it fiercely.
For years, I believed that being constantly available, relentlessly positive, and always ready to jump in was just “who I am.” And while those are indeed parts of me I cherish, I’ve realised there’s a fine line between generosity and self-neglect. When your unique brand of sunshine is only appreciated when it aligns with someone else’s agenda, it’s not genuine appreciation; it’s convenience.
So, i guess you’re asking, what does it mean to “put a cost” on one’s energy?

Setting Boundaries, Not Building Walls

It’s important to set clear boundaries. This isn’t about building walls around myself, but rather creating healthy barriers that protect my peace. It means saying no when my plate is full, even if it means disappointing someone. It means declining invitations that don’t genuinely excite me, opting for quiet evenings that replenish my spirit instead.

Valuing My Voice (Even When It’s Unpopular)

I am starting to recognise that my “tell it as we see it” nature is a strength, not a flaw. I’ve often toned down my honest opinions or unique perspectives to avoid rocking the boat, especially when I sensed they might not be popular. But my voice, my authentic self, is valuable precisely because it’s mine. If someone only wants to hear what agrees with them, then perhaps they’re not truly interested in a genuine connection.

Investing in Reciprocal Relationships

Nowadays I focus on relationships where the energy flows both ways. Where listening is a two-way street, where support is freely offered and received, and where my happiness isn’t contingent on someone else’s approval. These are the relationships that nourish me, rather than deplete me.

The Price of Authenticity

Ultimately, putting a “cost” on my energy is about choosing authenticity over popular appeal. It’s about understanding that my happy-go-lucky, keep it extremely real vibe is a gift, and like any valuable gift, it deserves to be treated with respect. If that means some people find my “flavour” less appealing when it doesn’t serve their immediate needs, then so be it. The price of dimming my own light to fit into someone else’s narrative is far too high for me to gamble with.

This journey of redefining my worth and valuing my energy is ongoing. It’s not always easy, and there are still moments when I slip back into old habits. But with every boundary set, every authentic conversation had, and every moment of self-care prioritised. I’m reminding myself that my vibe, and ultimately the core essence of me isn’t something to be taken for granted. It’s a precious resource, and it’s time I started treating it that way. I now understand that energy is equal to a financial commodity so start charging people, plus tax.

How do you protect your energy in a world that often demands so much of it? I’d love to hear your thoughts and experiences in the comments below!

Alright, fellow navigators of this chaotic sphere we call life! If you’re a seasoned veteran of “Diary of a Lost Soul,” you’ll know that my unscheduled disappearing acts usually mean my personal world is in a severe tailspin, moving faster than a toddler midway through a sugar rush. And as I searched for success using the big guns like therapy, attempting to remember what “rest” feels like, and actually doing things I enjoy were all in play, this week’s grand return to the land of the living (and writing) can be attributed to something gloriously, almost ridiculously, small: I bought a new bag.

Now, hold on, I can practically feel you squinting at your screens. “A bag?” you’re collectively muttering, “That’s it? That’s the secret sauce to emerging from a self-imposed writer’s exile?” Hear me out, because this isn’t just any bag; it’s a beacon of hope in a sea of… well, stuff.

You see, not only do I brave the daily gladiatorial combat that is commuting, but my gut has recently decided that the general stress of gestures vaguely at everything is simply too much. This has led to me being chained to my kitchen, portioning out every morsel like a prize fighter in training camp. The result? My trusty work bag started to resemble a small, overstuffed pack animal, each day adding another kilo of physical discomfort to my already simmering pot of mental angst. It’s a vicious cycle, isn’t it? Your brain feels like a scrambled egg, so your body decides to join the party.

Enter: The New Bag. Medium-sized, blessed with an almost magical number of compartments, it has swallowed everything I need and, more importantly, significantly lightened the load on my weary back. And just like that, a tiny shift, a seemingly insignificant purchase, was the spark that reignited my desire to produce content like the creative princess I was born to be. Outside of finding the perfect accessory, it reminded me that when everything feels overwhelming, solving a small, tangible problem can alter the way you see your current situation. It doesn’t have to be world-changing; it just has to make your world a tiny bit better. Fixing that wobbly chair, clearing off your desk, or, yes, finding a bag that doesn’t break your back – these little acts of agency can create surprising life ripple effects.

What I’m trying to get at, in my slightly roundabout, bag-obsessed way, is that sometimes when we stumble, miss a deadline, or completely faceplant on a goal, we convince ourselves that a monumental effort is required to get back up. We think we need to move mountains, reinvent the wheel, or at the very least, finally sort out that one kitchen drawer.

But more often than not, it’s those little victories, those seemingly inconsequential milestones, that gently nudge us back onto the right path. So, my advice? Actively hunt for these micro-wins. Did you actually drink enough water today? High-five yourself! Did you manage to get out of bed when the duvet monster had you in its comfy clutches? That’s a gold star! Break down your bigger, scarier goals into laughably small steps. Instead of “write a novel,” maybe it’s “write one sentence I don’t hate.” Or even just “open the laptop.” The key is to create opportunities to feel that little zing of accomplishment.

It’s the perfectly brewed cup of tea, the unexpected compliment, the five minutes of sunshine on your face, or yes, or if you’re anything like me the profound satisfaction of a well-organised, lighter handbag. These are the tiny seeds of growth, the whispers of encouragement that tell us we can, in fact, keep going. As easy as it is to say it is important to acknowledge them! Don’t just brush past these moments. Take a second to consciously appreciate that small good thing. Maybe even jot it down. It sounds cheesy, but a “tiny wins” list can be surprisingly powerful when you’re feeling deep in a rut.

So, next time you feel like your life resembles herding cats, remember the humble utility bag that brought me back to ya’ll. Look for your own small win. Actively seek out those little levers that can shift your perspective, lighten your load (literally or figuratively), and boost your spirits. It might just be the surprisingly delightful thing that helps you find your footing and take that next, crucial step. Keep growing, one tiny, brilliant success at a time. You’ve got this.

P.s. Thank you Noirvere for the delightful purchase that got me back on track!

I recently realised something: all along, I’ve been the barrier to my own success. If you’re a regular reader of this blog, you’ll know this is my worst nightmare. I would rather do an “I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!” Bush Tucker Trial than stop the train toward my progression. It’s funny because, in my mind, failing has always been this extreme experience, such as not taking a promotion because it moved me somewhere far away from my community. Or refusing to learn something I knew would take me to the next plateau because I didn’t think I was good enough to achieve it. But I’ve found that it lies in something much more incremental: my thoughts.

The Power of Belief & Consistency of Thoughts

I’m learning that there’s a relationship between the consistency of my thoughts and my internal belief systems. If I believe that something is unable to catapult me toward my idea of success, it has to go. As much as I’m proud of my go-getter spirit, it often makes me wonder if some of what we call hobbies could be extreme money-making talents we didn’t see value in.

Being a child growing up in inner-city London, where an idle mind is a slave to the streets, I spent a lot of my free time in activities. I did gymnastics, dance, drama, creative writing—the list is endless. However, over time, I stopped doing them. If it wasn’t to focus on education, it was because they were considered things to do to occupy time and wouldn’t give me the life outcome I needed to be the high-flying success I was ordained to be. When I think back to that, it’s nonsense because I had no clue where I would end up. So, making any hard decisions about what would benefit or deter me from that dream had very little basis.

My partner always says, “To achieve something, you have to be crazy about your craft,” and honestly, I brushed that off for a while due to it being social media meme’d out to capacity. But also because, when you look deeper into the quote, it means more than what meets the eye. Not only do you have to have intense devotion, but unshakeable dedication to whatever you want to achieve. Hence why you will probably need every tool in the toolbox to make it happen.

Battling The Negative Narratives of Thoughts

One of the statements that stuck to my prefrontal cortex when I thought about this post was from a church sermon I was listening to years ago. The pastor ferociously repeated a sentence: “When the devil wants to attack, he doesn’t go after the thing you are hoping for; he wants to enter your mind.” Now, despite not dubbing myself as a Christian, I am 100% a spiritual person. And when I reflect deeply about the many reasons I gave up that hobby or interest, it was because a seed of doubt was planted, sprouting a beanstalk-worthy tree full of negative narratives that swam around in my brain when it got quiet.

As much as B. Simone isn’t the world’s favorite example of success, I was enamored by her 1 million dollar challenge, pushing herself to make 1 million dollars by her 30th birthday. It’s not only the fact that she reached her goal that inspires me, but the how. B. leaned on every one of her skills, down to doing hair, which she did before she became a comedian who toured with heavyweights like Martin Lawrence and Nick Cannon, to make that money. Not only did she believe in herself, but she valued every one of her skills’ ability to help her achieve her goal.

Reclaiming Your Dreams & Mindset

What I am trying to say is, society is not the only source of killing our dreams; sometimes we do that all by ourselves. To combat this, we need to take control of our thoughts. Dreaming is often seen as a negative thing that keeps us away from the realities of life. I now understand dreaming is one of those things that keeps you alive and open to the wider possibilities the world offers. The hardships of the Western world often make us forget that there is more to the world than a 9-to-5. Therefore, join me in training our minds into believing that, no matter what, it will all work out. I have no idea what I am doing, but at least ya’ll know your not the only one searching for a paddle.