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

Pour something in daily. However small, it compounds into trust. And trust allows us to rise.   Consistency is expensive. It demands time, energy, sacrifice, and discipline. But in return, it buys us the rarest currency—self-trust. And that trust is what allows us to rise. I learned this lesson the hard way. When I was studying to become an accountant, I believed I could cram the syllabus two weeks before the exam and sail through. After all, that formula had worked before. But this time, it didn’t. One of my lecturers said something that shifted everything: “You start with 100%, and every action you take—or don’t take—can minus marks.” That landed deeply. I realized that every day I chose not to study, I was subtracting from my own potential. So I started small. Ten minutes a day. Reading something daily, pouring something into my brain, no matter how little. That consistent pattern became the action that would not minus from that 100%. And it worked. I passed the exams—and contin...

  "Sometimes we have this idea that people have potential they’re not maximizing, and our goal in our relationship with them becomes getting them to see that potential. We want them to become what we think they should be. But here’s the thing: people have to see their own potential. They have to be able to see a way out of their circumstances, and we can’t do that for them. " — Nedra Glover Tawwab This quote resonates deeply with me. In both my professional and personal life, I’ve often found myself chasing after the shimmer of potential—believing that if I could just help someone see what I see, they would rise into it. Sometimes that belief has been a gift. Other times, it has blinded me to reality, to what is truly standing in front of me. The truth is sobering: potential is not enough. If someone doesn’t believe in it, doesn’t see it, or doesn’t want to realize it, there is nothing I can do. And the reverse is equally true—if others see something in me that I cannot yet g...

Affirmation: "I honor gratitude for what is, while courageously choosing more joy, more love, and more life for myself." December arrives with a question, carrying the weight of eleven months behind it and the promise of twelve more ahead. This month, my word is more. A tricky word, isn’t it? Because when the balance is off, “more” can become a restless hunger, a treadmill that never stops. We chase it, forgetting gratitude, forgetting presence, forgetting that enoughness is already here. But the “more” I am choosing this December is different. It is not about accumulation or striving. It is about shifting out of survival mode—the place I’ve lived in for much of this year—and remembering that joy can exist even in challenge. Survival mode doesn’t have to mean scarcity. It can hold laughter, memories, and moments of light. It can remind me that wanting more is not a betrayal of gratitude, but an expansion of it. So I ask myself: what is the intention behind “more”? Is it fear,...

  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...