At Last

November 28, 2025

Today, I felt the woman I’ve been weaving myself into.

The one I’ve been shaping quietly, patiently, persistently—

threading golden strands of self-love, self-respect, and dignity

through every place that was ready to be remade in gold.

The one I’ve been expanding toward,

calling into form,

inviting home.

She rose in me today.

Bright.

Whole.

Unshaken.

A shimmer in the chest.

A warmth without reason.

A joy that felt like light behind the ribs.

And the day itself seemed to bend toward that feeling.

Time with my family,

gathered in easy orbit.

No rush.

No strain.

Just the soft rhythm of belonging.

We wandered a whimsical grocery store,

touching beautiful things,

laughing at small delights,

moving like we always have,

together.

Burgers from a kind man with an even kinder smile.

West African food that tasted like the universe loves me.

Lightness drifting in the air,

as if the whole world exhaled with us.

Later, the four of us

huddled around new phones.

Simple.

Ordinary.

So incredibly sweet.

Dreams spilled into the room.

Change softened.

Laughter floated.

Love threaded through everything.

And in the quiet spaces between moments,

I realized something.

I am no longer ravaged by grief.

I am no longer hollowed by betrayal.

I am no longer carrying the tight, hot ache of survival.

Something in me has healed.

Something in me has returned.

Something in me has bloomed.

Today was not extraordinary.

It was something better.

It felt like the quiet proof that the deepest wounds are no longer running the show.

That after decades of work,

I am the healed, healthy, whole woman I always knew I could be.

I am safe.

I am warm.

I am loved, thoroughly.

By me, for me, proud of me.

This is Homecoming.