Tag Archives: #LolaJournal

Lil Moment of Nacho Joy! 🌮✨

After a stretch of life feeling like it had me in a chokehold, I found myself standing in my kitchen making nachos.Not fancy ones.Not Pinterest ones.Just the kind that feel like home.Ground chicken with taco seasoning.Whole wheat nachos.A good handful of cheese.Onions. Black olives.Baked until everything melts together like it understands you.Finished with sour creamContinue reading “Lil Moment of Nacho Joy! 🌮✨”

You Do You, Boo: Quieting the Inner Saboteur 🍍

Some weeks don’t just test us. they straight‑up heckle us from the cheap seats.Sickness rolls in. Schedules implode. Emotions do parkour. And suddenly that voice inside gets real loud.You know the one.The inner saboteur. Mine can be vicious. Says harder things to me than a 16‑year‑old riding a wicked testosterone boost on exam week. (IfContinue reading “You Do You, Boo: Quieting the Inner Saboteur 🍍”

🌑 Birthday Soak: How I Fired My Demons and Took a Bath

So, here’s the thing. Birthdays aren’t always cake, confetti, and Beyoncé-level glam. Sometimes they feel like a cosmic reminder of all the junk you’ve been dragging around—old wounds, toxic people, leftover drama clinging to your aura like that one sock in the dryer that refuses to let go. This year, I decided I wasn’t goingContinue reading “🌑 Birthday Soak: How I Fired My Demons and Took a Bath”

🌻 “Or What”  Finding My Calm in the Chaos   August 6th, 2025.   There’s a wild storm around me—emotional wreckage, financial pressure, unspoken words, and love that aches instead of soothes. But somehow, in the middle of it all, I’ve carved out a circle of calm. Not by accident. Not by magic. But with my own two hands.I planted sunflowers this spring. Not just because they’re beautiful—though goddess knows they are—but because I needed something to rise when everything else felt like it was falling. I pressed each seed into the soil like a whispered prayer. I didn’t know then that I was planting hope, boundaries, and self-respect. I just knew I needed something to grow that wouldn’t ask anything of me but presence. Water. Light.                   Now here I sit, surrounded by tall golden sentinels, swaying gently around me like guardians of my peace. Their faces always turned toward the sun—just like I’m learning to do. I crafted a meditation circle at their center. It’s not perfect, but it’s mine. Music flows through the garden like a river of calm, softening the sharp edges of my thoughts.This is my sanctuary. My heartbeat has slowed here. My breath feels like it belongs again. The chaos hasn’t disappeared—but it can’t reach me the same way. Not here. Not in the soil I claimed.—A Question That Echoes: “Or What?”               Lately, there’s been this question playing on repeat in my head. A challenge. A dare from my own spirit: “Or what?” What if I say no to carrying the emotional weight of others?         What if I stop sacrificing my peace just to keep the boat from rocking?           What if I stop trying to fix everyone else and tend to the garden inside me?             Or what?               It’s not fear that asks anymore. It’s fire. It’s the woman in me who’s tired of shrinking to make room for storms that aren’t hers. —Love Hurts, But I Hurt TooI love them both. My son, —hurting in ways I can feel in my bones. My partner—struggling, drowning financially, emotionally, spiritually. But I’m starting to realize… I love me more. And that doesn’t make me cruel—it makes me ready. Ready to stop surviving and start choosing. Ready to live without the constant ache. Ready to ask for more than just space—I want peace. And if I can’t find it in the world around me, then I will damn well grow it with my own hands.     —This Is My Beginning September used to feel like a breaking point. But now I see it as the turning point. So I water my garden. I light a candle at dusk. I write to Lola, my inner voice, my guide. And I sit in my sunflower circle, rooted and real. I’m not waiting for anyone else to save me. I’ve already started saving myself.                —🖤To every woman planting seeds in the middle of her storm—this is your sign. Make your own peace. Grow it. Guard it. And when the world tries to pull you back into the chaos, look it dead in the eye and whisper: “Or what?”

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started