23.

23

man, life’s been a trip. some days i feel like i got it all figured out, other days i’m just tryna make it to the next without losin my head. but that’s the thing… it’s all a process. you grow, you learn, you unlearn, you mess up, you bounce back. i used to think i had to have it all together by now, but truth is none of us really do. we’re just tryna find our way, piece by piece.

love’s taught me a lot. about others, but mostly about myself. i’ve learned how to show up for people, but also how to show up for me. that part was hard. it’s easy to give everything you got to others & leave yourself on empty, but nah… this year, i’ve been learning to pour back in. fill my own cup first. speak kind to myself. give myself room to grow, to mess up, to be human. ’cause i deserve that kind of love too.

faith’s been my anchor. i ain’t perfect with it, but God been holdin me down in ways i can’t even explain. even when i didn’t have the words, or the answers, or the strength, i was still covered. & that means everything to me. i’ve learned to let go a little more, trust a little deeper, believe that what’s meant for me won’t miss. life hits different when you stop fightin the process & start trusting it.

this year, i’ve been moving with more gratitude. for real. for the people in my life. the ones who stayed, the ones who kept checkin in, the ones who showed love without a reason. y’all been my light on dark days. if you still here, still ridin with me, i appreciate you more than i say. loyalty like that don’t go unnoticed, fr.

i don’t know everything. still figuring out who i’m tryna be, what i wanna build, where i wanna go. but i know i’m on the right path. & i know there’s so much more to come. the goals, the dreams, the love, the peace—it’s all comin. i feel it. i’m not in a rush, but i’m locked in. one step @ a time. just tryna stay present & let life unfold how it’s meant to.

so here’s to 23. to still being here. to everything i’ve survived. to everything i’m walking toward. i’m grateful. i’m growing. i’m healing. & i’m celebrating—me, life, love, all of it. thank you for rockin with me. thank you for seeing me. we just gettin started.

con paz.

there’s something powerful about choosing peace. especially when it would be easier to stay angry, hold on, or fight to be understood. but not everything deserves that kind of energy. not every ending needs to be battled. sometimes, the most freeing thing we can do is let go, con paz.

letting go does not mean giving up. it means recognizing what no longer serves us. it means trusting that walking away can be just as sacred as staying. it is the decision to stop replaying the past, to stop searching for meaning in places where meaning has already left, to stop shrinking ourselves to fit into something that no longer holds us with care.

there is grace in acceptance.

grace in saying, this hurts, but it is over.

grace in refusing to carry what was never ours to hold forever.

peace is not loud. it does not show up with applause. it comes softly, like a breath we forgot we needed. it settles into the parts of us that once carried too much. it reminds us we do not need to explain everything to everyone. we do not need to justify our healing.

this is not about pretending it did not matter.

it mattered.

it changed us.

but growth means honoring what was without letting it control what comes next.

the future deserves a lighter version of us. one that is not stuck in survival. not tied to old stories. not waiting to be chosen. the future deserves a soul that is rested. eyes that are forward. a heart that is clear.

to anyone carrying more than they should,

to anyone afraid to release what is already gone,

this is the reminder:

you are allowed to let go without needing closure.

you are allowed to protect your peace without guilt.

you are allowed to walk away without bitterness in your chest.

because peace is not something we find by chance. it is something we choose on purpose.

& every step forward gets lighter when peace is what we are walking toward

con paz.

.

-rl.

nothing without who you used to be

you are not who you used to be, & that’s a good thing

maybe you’ve been feeling it too

that quiet shift in your spirit

that discomfort in the places you used to find peace

the way certain people or habits just don’t feel right anymore

it’s not a bad thing

it’s growth

& i want you to know it’s okay to outgrow versions of yourself that were built for survival, not for living

you don’t have to apologize for not being the same anymore

you don’t owe anyone consistency in your suffering

you’re allowed to evolve

that old version of you

the one that always said yes when you wanted to say no

the one who kept giving even when your soul was tired

the one who watered dead gardens hoping they’d bloom

you don’t have to be them anymore

you don’t have to keep shrinking yourself to make other people feel comfortable

you don’t have to carry guilt for choosing peace

you don’t have to defend your healing to people who benefited from your brokenness

i know it’s hard

letting go of your past self means letting go of people who only knew how to love that version of you

but you’re not responsible for making others understand your growth

you are responsible for choosing yourself

for protecting your peace, your heart, your energy

for standing in the truth of who you’re becoming

even if it makes others uncomfortable

some won’t understand why you’ve changed

some will try to pull you back into the old patterns, the old cycles, the old you

but you’re not there anymore

you’ve done the work, or maybe you’re just starting

either way, it’s enough

you’re allowed to say

“that used to be me, but it’s not me anymore”

this isn’t about pretending to be perfect

it’s about finally being real

being honest with yourself about what hurts, what heals, what you want, & what you no longer accept

i’m not writing this because i’ve figured it all out

i’m writing this because i’ve been there

& i want you to know you’re not alone

you’re not wrong for changing

you’re growing

& growth is loud @ first, but eventually it turns into peace

so if no one’s told you lately

i’m proud of you

for shifting

for showing up, again & again, for yourself

keep going

you’re becoming someone worth protecting

& it’s okay if not everyone gets to come with you

rl.

p. l. p.

there’s something unshakable about a person who walks in their power. not in the loud, forceful kind of way but in the quiet confidence that comes from knowing who they are & what they’re here for. real power isn’t about controlling anyone else, it’s about mastering yourself. it’s the ability to move through the world rooted, self-aware, & unbothered by outside noise. it’s staying solid in your truth even when everything around you tries to pull you out of it.

love, when it’s real, doesn’t weaken that power, it deepens it. the right kind of love doesn’t drain you, it pours into you. it pushes you to grow, softens your guard, & reminds you that even strength needs a safe place to land. it’s not just romance; it’s support, it’s presence, it’s patience. love adds color to purpose. it gives the journey meaning. because as much as we chase success or independence, deep down, we all crave someone to share it with. someone who sees us, believes in us, & rides with us through it all.

purpose is what wakes you up in the morning. it’s that internal fire that keeps burning even when things get hard. it’s not always loud or clear, sometimes it reveals itself slowly sometimes through the pain, through the people we meet, through the passions that won’t leave us alone. when you know your purpose, you move differently. you stop chasing empty things & start aligning with what actually matters.

when power, love & purpose come together, it’s different. you become a force. unstoppable not because you’re perfect, but because you’re anchored. you know your worth, you love with intention, & you’re moving toward something real. not everyone will understand it. some will fall off, some won’t be ready but you’ll keep going because you know what’s on the line. peace. fulfillment. legacy.

this life is too short to move aimlessly. be intentional. lead with love. protect your power. chase what sets your soul on fire. because when you finally align with what’s meant for you; when your heart, your mind & your mission are all locked in, that’s when you become untouchable.

-rl

the bear

i’ve been showing up every day trying to make something out of the wreckage. that’s what it feels like sometimes — like i’m rebuilding a place that burned down with my name still spray-painted on the wall. it’s not just about the work it’s about the weight behind it. the voices in my head saying “you should be further” or “this isn’t enough” or worse, “you’re not enough.” no one talks about how loud that gets when everything around you finally starts looking like it’s coming together.

people see the surface — they see promotion, progress, maybe even confidence. but they don’t see the nights where your mind won’t stop racing, where every mistake you’ve ever made starts playing on loop, louder than your wins. they don’t see you staring at the clock at 2 am, dissecting a conversation you had ten hours ago wondering if you handled it right. they don’t feel how heavy it gets when the bar you set for yourself keeps getting higher, & you don’t even know if you’re chasing growth or punishing yourself anymore.

i carry a lot of pressure. not from anyone else, but from me. from what i expect, from what i refuse to settle for. i want to be excellent. i want to build something real. but there are days where i wonder if it’s coming from a place of passion or if it’s coming from fear — fear of slipping back into the version of me that was lost, or broke, or quiet when he should’ve spoken. i’ve been him before & i swore i wouldn’t go back.

but you still feel him some days. in the doubt. in the silence after a long shift. in the way your body tenses up when something goes wrong. you fight him with routine with discipline with drowning yourself in the work. you try to find control in chaos because you couldn’t control the things that shaped you. & maybe that’s okay maybe it’s not about escaping your demons but learning how to cook with them in the kitchen without letting them burn the whole place down.

i don’t know if i’m doing it right. i don’t know if i’ll ever feel fully healed or fully seen. but i show up. i care. i try to give a shit even when giving a shit hurts. & maybe that’s what it means to fight through it — not to be perfect, but to keep showing up when you’d rather disappear. to keep building, even when all you ever learned growing up was how to survive the collapse. maybe i’m not building a dream. maybe i’m just trying to prove i deserved better than before.

-rl.