Sinclair Ceasar

An Open Letter to First Time Black Fathers Anywhere

Dear Brothers,

I won’t begin to assume what you’re going through, for there’s a spectrum of Blackness and man-ness and person-hood that exist, but I just had to write this as I sit in the delivery room hours before the arrival of our firstborn child.

I’m mostly writing to connect, reach out, and encourage.

To let you know that you’re not alone, and to remind myself that I’m not alone.

See, there’s this perception that a lot of black men aren’t there for their children. That a lot of us are either dying, killing, being killed, imprisoned. But, we know the truth: we’re not a monolith and a lot of us are here for our children, our families, our communities, our world.

Some of us are graduating from college. Some of us are owning businesses. Some of us are the best gamers, chefs, delivery men this world has ever seen. And some of us are struggling to get out of bed because of ancestral pain and trauma.

We come in so many shapes, sizes, belief systems, and lived experiences, but there are some things that connect us:

Many of us will have the talk with our child, especially our sons. We’ll let them know how different they are and what to do when they’re pulled over and how they’ll feel the need to be two steps ahead of their peers.
Many of us have experienced some type of othering in our lifetime. Personally, I was called too white and not black enough as a child. That’s part of what led to the self-hate I’ve been working to unlearn in my 30s.
Many of us had fathers or father figures who were really really tough on us. Who hit us, or swore at us, or made us feel like we were worthless in order to help us survive a cold world. They inherited much of that from their fathers and so on. If this is your story, you may often find ourselves at the crossroads of restoration and resentment.

And many of us are trying to figure out what type of dads we’ll be, and we’re doing everything we can to break generational patters and curses, and do better.

I know I am.

For we are enough and we’re exactly where we need to be: in the life of someone who we mean the world to, before we even utter a word.
Sinclair P. Ceasar III, First Time Black Father

I feel the pressure to do well with this baby that will come any hour now. With this black baby that will live in a world that often weaponizes, sexualizes, brutalizes their body (see Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates).

A world that doesn’t understand what it means to “always be thinking about race” or to “often be wondering if we’re code switching or actually saying the right thing for the moment”.

I will make an assumption now.

I assume that some of you are reading this and going, “Oh, no. This author clearly isn’t in touch with his true self and his roots. He needs to read up on his history and learn.” And you’d be correct. I have a lot to learn and ways to go, and also, I’m right where I should be — that’s a big takeaway I hope most new dads have from this letter.

We are exactly where we need to be.

We are ready as we are to be stewards of this new life form that is before us.

Who can say what a whole, sound, and perfect black man looks like? I’m sure someone can, but what matters most to me is being a father — a parent — who shows up every single day to his child.

As someone was raised by resilient and loving grandparents with middle school educations, one of the best things they did for me was be present.

Present to invite me to sleep on their bedroom floor when thunderstorms rolled through. Present for the tears I cried after bullies had their way. Present for the times my hands couldn’t stop shaking after my own father stopped by to berate and abuse.

Presence.

That’s what’s required, dear brothers. And if you can, some grace, love, and patience.

Grace is the space we hold for someone to be imperfect and unfinished. Love is the acceptance and validation we fill that space with. And patience is what we give ourselves to do better at the former at the latter.

My heart both panics and smiles as I think of holding my newborn child.

What will become of them, what will they dream of, will I be enough for them, will we succeed in keeping them safe?

What will they accomplish?

How will I ruin them?

How will I help them thrive?

And so, I find myself overwhelmed with favorable and unfavorable outcomes, and it’s imperative for me to give myself the same grace, love, and patience my child will require. The same you require. The same we all are so desperately needing as we parent, teach, lead, and guide.

For we are enough and we’re exactly where we need to be: in the life of someone who we mean the world to, before we even utter a word.

Stop chasing people who don’t want you.

Header Photo by Thomas Young | Words by Sinclair Ceasar

🎧 Audio version of today’s newsletter.

They don’t want you.

They’re not going after you. They never call you first, email you back, text to see how you are.

At this point, they’re probably ghosting you, but you’re thirsty and hungry for their attention and validation. They know this. Maybe they don’t.

Either way, you’re not a priority for them, but you keep going after them. It’s not healthy. You need to let them go.

If you keep holding on, you’ll miss out on all the people right there in your life who actually want you and want to give you love. You’ll miss out on yourself and all the things you’d be sacrificing if you and this person actually did life together, business together, creativity together, making a family together.

You’re willing to compromise your values just to be with them. You know you shouldn’t, but you ignore your truest voice.

You’d rather partner with fear instead.

Dear reader, I gotta tell you, it’s time to stop chasing people who don’t want you. People who’d bring all that’s toxic into your life. People who won’t give to you how you’d give to them. People who are clearly disinterested in who you are and what you bring.

I know this because I’ve been that chaser so many times in my life. I’ve gone after the people who only want to cause me harm. I’ve gone after people who were only meant to be in my life for a brief season.

Everyone isn’t meant to stick around forever. Some people come into our lives for the job, the date, the money, the laughs, or the trip, and then they leave.

I’ve feared that letting go means losing something I’ll never ever get back: someone who loves me, someone who sees me, someone who wants to create with me. I have attachment and detachment issues. I fear being alone. I’m uncomfortable with too much silence.

Mostly though, I fear that letting go of people means that something is wrong with me. But that’s not true.

Letting go of someone could be the breakthrough you’ve been needing to give to yourself.

It could mean you seizing an opportunity you wouldn’t have otherwise. It could be making space for the people, the healthy habits, the practices, and the love that would actually light up your life.

But, you won’t get any of that if you’re fixated on everything and everyone that doesn’t want you.
Make the shift.

It’s taken years, but I’ve made the shift through deep work with therapists, close friends, my wife, God, and myself. Today, I’m fortunate and thankful to have the relationships I didn’t have growing up. I’m no longer sticking with people who brought violence and pain and humiliation into my life.

Sometimes, I see myself starting to chase others, but then I think: Do I have the love I need?

I do.

How to begin shifting your own narrative.

Check those stories you’re telling yourself.

Ask yourself:

What am I afraid of losing if I let them go?
Why do I keep going after people who never go after me?
What would happen if I focused on what I love, instead of on who could love me?
How am I grounded in the relationships I already have?
What’s the loving choice in all this? What’s the fear filled decision?

Sit with the real answers that arise. Write them down. Talk them out with someone you trust. Talk them out with me, you know I’m here.

But, don’t retreat when painful realizations show themselves. We often avoid the truth because it’s hard to digest. Then, we spend years of our lives suffering, because we chose to act from a deficit, rather than make decisions that align with our values.

Who do you need to stop chasing? What’s your next move with this? Whatever it is, I encourage you to carry grace with you during this process. Go slow with it. Go easy on yourself. It doesn’t need to happen today.

I hope you get to a point where you can say: I’ve let go of at least one relationship that was draining me. I was doing all the work, and they weren’t willing to. I’m glad I chose me.

Choose you, my friend.

To The Person Who Wants to Give Up Because Their Work Is Undervalued

So, no one is showing up. The retweets aren’t coming. Your inbox is empty. The callback never came. No one seems to notice what you’re sharing with the world. You feel like you’re wasting your time.

Only a few people have seen your work and said: “Well done.” Others were confused or uninterested.

You seek more validation, but you’re seemingly insatiable. You await the moment when all that you do is considered credible.

What do your friends say? What do your co-workers say? What do your toughest critics say?

Somehow, what you believe about yourself doesn’t matter as much. It doesn’t hold much weight.

This process leaves you feeling isolated. Some of this is a result of you pushing away those who actually matter. Some of this is the sadness that comes with you concluding that you don’t measure up.

When you’re fed up

Let’s be clear about this. You’ve been working your absolute hardest for a long time. You’ve cried from the exhaustion.

There are stacks of dusty rough drafts no one is allowed to see. Some ideas are tucked away because they’re too outrageous, outlandish, impractical.

“This won’t work. And it if does, no one will like it.” Bitterness and hopelessness taken up residence. They appear to be permanent tenants.

You’re giving up.

You think back to that time someone told you that your work sucked. Maybe they laughed at you. Maybe they minimized everything you brought forth. Maybe they promised they’d show up, but they didn’t. It was just an audience of one: Disappointment.

Disappointment has been hovering over every single one of your creations. It muddies things. It renders you incapable of seeing all those other good and needed parts of you.

Because you are needed. Your work is needed. What you have to give is what you have to give. No one can take that away from you.

Alas, the most formidable threat to your work, the most challenging adversary to all that you will ever do or create, is you. Every time you pull back and keep your gifts, skills, talents, products, projects, music, cuisine, teaching, love, dancing, writing, anything from the the world, someone loses.

This is not to say that everything you do is ground-breaking or awe-inspiring. It is to say that the thing which you’ve put a lot into matters.

You have no idea of who is better off because you’re here. And, you don’t get to say all of what your positive impact has been on others.

You’d surely miss something.

You don’t truly get to say what your work can and can’t do, because you will never be able to read the heart and mind of everyone whose path you’ve crossed.

While you’re permitted to give up, quit, run away, hide, or shrink someone misses out on their blessing.

Every time you hide your light, someone loses.

Things that don’t belong

All of your fears, feelings, and reluctance is valid because hurt is real and harm is sometimes everlasting. Guilt nor shame have any place here.

This is simply a reminder: what you have to give matters so much.

I say all this with grace and love and openness, knowing that everyone doesn’t have the access and privilege and space to do all they wish to do. This is about all that you can give right where you are right now. Whether it be glamorous, or unassuming. Require funding or none at all.

Every time you hide your light, someone loses.

I say this from the deepest parts of me because I too have wanted to give up so many times (and have) because I didn’t get the feedback I wanted. I didn’t get the response I thought I needed. I created and created and no one came. There have been times when I’ve set things up and no one showed up.

I can easily call back those feelings. At times, I still feel afraid of launching something new, sharing something I care about, or showing others my work. I’ve faced rejection countless times.

What’s often hurt most is feeling misunderstood and convincing myself that what I do isn’t actually useful to anyone. But, today, I’m sure that my values have been misplaced when it comes to this. My assumptions have been inaccurate.

I’m not here to share my light in order to receive validation. I’m not here to be the biggest change this world has ever seen. I wasn’t purposed to create just so others can show up and say: “Wow, that was just what I needed.”

To be honest, I don’t fully know why I’m here. But, what I do know is that there’s power in continuing to create, show up, and put out the best work that I can. Consistency got me to today.

Consistency had me up at night writing this message to you. Consistency is what has made me a better husband, friend, writer, performer, supervisor, colleague, practitioner, speaker, Christian, human.

Not perfection. I’m wholly imperfect. Not fame. It’s fleeting.

Consistency is showing up again and again because all of this means something to someone, and it’s all so much bigger than me, and so much bigger than you.

It’s worth it because at least one person will come across what I’ve made, what I’ve let flow through me, and will benefit from it. All that you’ve been given, all that you’ve worked for, and all that you have, isn’t just for you.

If you’ve been hiding the parts of you that could potentially be a gift to someone else, I encourage to set aside a few minutes and consider the following prompts:

What if my work – though rough, unfinished, incomplete – could help someone else?
What if all the bad that was said about what I create was only part of the story? What if there’s some good they missed?
What if I’m keeping a blessing/gift/invitation from someone else who needs it by holding back what I have to give?
Am I waiting too long for this thing to be perfect?
What permission do I need to just push this out and see where it lands, fail, and try again?

Never alone

If you want to process this with someone, you know I’m here. Let’s hop on a life coaching discovery call. It’s free, and it’s all about you for 30 minutes. I’m here to listen and see how I can work with you on your liberation.

I also encourage you to reach out to someone who does the work you do or makes the thing you make or is on the path you’re on. See what they have to say. Challenge yourself to open your heart a little and share something real. Then, actually listen.

This is what was on my heart today. I’m glad I didn’t hide it.

For Anyone Else Desperately Trying to Figure Out Their Purpose in Life

According to Google, the definition of purpose is: “the reason for which something is done or created or for which something exists.”

So, when someone asks us: “Hey, uhhh, what’s your purpose in life?” They’re asking us why we exist?

Whew.

When I was a child, I had a close family member who’d repeatedly confront me with similar questions but from a place of anger and intimidation. They’d ask 9-year-old me: “Why are you even here? What do you do around here? Nothing. You do nothing!” They knew how to break me down. I felt like I was always making mistakes and feeling I wasn’t good enough. I internalized those thoughts, and part of me is still struggling to come up with a good response.

But I’m healing.

And, I’ve come a long long way. I bet you have too.

…

Maybe you’ve had some bullies in your life. Maybe someone has made you feel like less without even meaning to, but you still question your impact, your meaning, your reason for being. Am I doing enough?

Maybe you saw a groundbreaking TED talk, or you heard the news about an amazing child prodigy, or your friend told you about someone who has this really cool start-up. What am I even doing with my life?

Perhaps, you’ve found yourself scrolling on social media late at a night and feeling like everyone but you is living their best lives.

Or maybe you go deeper with it and ask yourself: “Is there even a reason for me to be here? Do I even have a purpose? And if I don’t, what’s that mean about my existence.”

A lot of us end up here. You’re not alone.

We spiral and find ourselves viewing our lives as meaningless and worthless because we aren’t doing what others are doing. We internally berate ourselves for not accomplishing what we could be accomplishing based on our qualifications, ability, privilege, network, or training.

We convince ourselves that we don’t measure up.

We tell ourselves that we’ll matter more when we get the job, the spouse, the money, the degree, the _____.

Sadly, our self-worth can often be completely tied up in everything we don’t have and everything we feel like we’re not.

We can find ourselves in the happiest experiences of our lives (like truly thriving), only to be swept under the waves of self-doubt and misery moments later, when we realize we don’t have ourselves all figured out yet. Or when we hastily push ahead and set another goal to accomplish. Or when we realize that some parts of us are still broken.

But, here’s the truth of it: all of us have brokenness. All of us have doubt. All of us have shame. And still, our lives have meaning.

Each of us has the capacity to add something to the communities we live in, the churches we’re a part of, the families we care for, the schools we attend, and the strangers we meet. We can make all those places a little better. Often we’re doing this by simply showing up and being ourselves – our clumsy, unsure, brilliant, zestful, intelligent selves.

Yes, I’m still talking about you and me.

Photo of person of color standing near wall. Grafiti is on wall. Person of color is wearing a blue jacket. — Photo by Michael Afonso on Unsplash

I think we get to break up the concept of purpose into smaller and more realistic pieces. Instead of asking: “Why am I here?” ask yourself about what you enjoy, what breaks your heart, who has thanked you recently about something you did for them, what you’re good at – like naturally good at, or what you work hard at even though you don’t get paid for it.

Ask yourself about what you’ve made it through. Ask yourself about how resilient you’ve been. Ask yourself about the things no one can ever take from you.

What excites you – or what used to? What do you care about – even if others don’t find it the least bit interesting.

I’ve done a lot of thinking about these questions, and here’s what I came up with.

Pieces of my purpose: To be a kind, good, and caring husband. To be a supportive older brother and supportive to others in my family. To be a solid and dependable friend. It breaks my heart to know that others are struggling in silence with mental illness. I find myself thinking of ways to help others take better care of themselves – this keeps me up at night. I also find myself thinking of ways to create community with other black men around issues of health and wellness, because so many of us are dying and suffering from preventable issues. I enjoy doing improv, writing, connecting with people, dancing, and bringing people together. If I wasn’t afraid, I would go all in on my dreams – I’m getting closer. Even at my lowest points, my worst moments, my biggest failures, I am still loved. I wholeheartedly believe part of my reason for being on this earth is to share God’s light with others through my work. I’ve often struggled to communicate this, because I feel like saying I’m a Christian and I love doing the work of the Lord turns others off, but it’s who I am. So here it is: I love Jesus. And if you don’t, I’m cool with that, and I still love you and celebrate you and think you get to have the big wondrous life you want to live. I find that leading and living from my heart makes all the different. It’s about love for me. That’s the big picture. Lastly, I believe I’ve had a positive impact on the lives of many just by showing up and being kind.

And, there’s so much more to me.

There’s so much more to you.

…

If you’re struggling to get unstuck from feeling like you have to have your entire life figured out today, I encourage you to pause, take a deep breath, and find some time to reflect on the topic of purpose in a different way. Remember to break it up.

Here are some questions to ask yourself this week, as you dig into this topic a little more.
I don’t suggest trying to respond to every one, it’s not a test. See which question tugs at you the most, kicks up stuff for you the most, or just feels most salient for you right now.

What issue or idea has been keeping me up at night?
What’s been breaking my heart?
What am I already doing that has a positive impact on the lives of others – if only a little?
What have my friends, family, or strangers thanked me for lately?
What would I create, add to, join, or show up for if I had the resources and wasn’t afraid?
What have I been hesitant to tell others about who I am and what I believe?

…

Oh, and I just gotta say this. Sometimes, we need to put down the journal, and get out, do something, and shake things up. I’ve personally found that taking action is a healthy way to move through the anxiety of trying to figure out ALL THE THINGS. This means signing up to volunteer service, joining a book club, attending a free lecture at a nearby college campus, or signing up for a workshop gets you out of your comfort zone. Thinking and reflection are necessary, and so is getting lost in experiences, meeting people you’ve never met, and doing things you never thought you could do.

Perhaps you won’t find the entire meaning for your life by doing this (you don’t need to), but you will learn something about yourself. You will take memories with you, and you will hopefully feel a little more alive.

…

You do not have to know your purpose in life to have meaning on this earth.

You don’t even have to be living on purpose to be belong here.

You already belong, and you’re already enough just because of the fact that you’re living and breathing. Those are the prerequisites. Live. Breathe.

If You’re Feeling Like You’re Going Nowhere

I get this feeling deep down in my gut that something is wrong.

I down a glass of water and do some breathing exercises, but nothing helps.

It’s not a panic attack. It’s me feeling unsettled. Yes, I absolutely love my job and the work I do. I work with and for incredible people. But, if we’re being honest here: I get fed up with myself from time to time. Many of us do.

My career is not enough, my professional network is not enough, and do not even ask to see my resume and portfolio.

Some might attribute this to me being an over-driven and over-zealous millennial. I don’t know. I am not here to present any groundbreaking research discoveries or realizations.

I am just here to let you know that I am with you.

You, the person who is never satisfied with the promotion you get. Your job titles just get in the way of all the unrecognized and hard work you do (it’s recognized by your supervisor and others, but you would not dare give yourself too much credit). You, with a mind full of so many ideas, ambitions, and goals only to be told to slow down and enjoy the journey.

I get it. I want success. I want to be happy. I want to be respected by my peers. In the quiet of my private moments, I conclude that this really is taking too long. I’m not where I want to be. EVERYONE ELSE is getting there faster. Much faster. Should I be doing more? Should I go bigger? Something tells me this thinking is all wrong. This thinking is dangerous.

If you feel like you’re going nowhere, you’re wrong.The ship is still moving, you’re just unaware of it.

If you’re like me, you can easily trick yourself into thinking that you’re going nowhere. You might even attempt to convince others that you don’t measure up.We don’t have to be okay with this. We can do better.

A mentor recently told me: Sinclair, you’re already the man. You just need to believe it. Those are powerful words to say to someone, and you’d have thought it shook up my world. I just pushed it aside. If I was the man, I’d feel like it and everyone would know it. That’s where I went wrong.

Truly realizing how competent, talented, and skilled we are is not something that anyone can convince us of. We have to believe it for ourselves, examine the realization, and continually come back to it. Knowing that you’re a bad motha-shut-yo-mouth isn’t about being over-confident or cocky. It’s about being self-aware, committing to your professional and personal development, and striving to be a person of virtue and values.

If you’re like me, you can easily trick yourself into thinking that you’re going nowhere.

What can we do in the moments when we feel stuck? I am not referring to moments of needed respite, or we have acquiesced to the pressures of life and our jobs. This is about the times where we can see our next step, and it’s only a few feet away.

This particular next step calls us to be more.

It beckons us to take time to improve ourselves. We realize that we need to challenge ourselves to go inward and take an honest at who we are and who we want to become. We need to set this process on repeat.

So, I’d like to invite you into my personal process, and I will begin by asking myself the following questions:

Are you bringing your best self to the people and projects in front of you each day? There’s nothing wrong with being forward thinking and results driven, but that can’t be all you are. If you’re like me, you constantly daydream about the future, and about when your organization and team will advance. All the while, you have ample opportunities to improve the processes and functions you see your same team and organization struggling with. We have to be cautious, so that we don’t end up chasing the high of leveling up. We need to be able to be present to the boring, mundane, and uninteresting aspects of any long-term processes and tasks. It will make us better team players.
Are you trying to be someone else’s version of you? When I was younger, my father told me I had the potential to make millions by being a businessman. Maybe I do. If I am being real, having a big bank account is not something I care about. I want to be financially sound and secure. Other than that, I am an educator and a servant leader. I am content with striving to help others live better stories. My line of work requires far more sacrifice than I will ever be compensated for. Yet, the past has had an impact on all of us, and sometimes thoughts sneak in that tell me I need to be doing more and earning more. When I identify these thoughts for what they are – thoughts -I refocus my attention on what I care about. I become less frustrated with myself and I get clear on the progress I have made in my career.
Are you taking time to reflect on what you have done well? Some people innocently – but annoyingly – call me Mr. Positivity. They do it because I’m intentional about adding positivity into any environment I find myself in. But, I don’t do it because I’m naturally happy. I’m exceedingly sarcastic and negative in my own mind. Sometimes it’s not healthy. So you can see how when I do my daily reflection, I make an extensive account of all the things I did incorrectly. I can’t tell you how many people I made smile, but I can recall all the times someone was upset with me, ignored me, or when I dropped the ball. It’s necessary to take an honest look at your shortcomings, but they’re not everything. And, if all you’re doing is cutting yourself down everyday, you’re always going to feel like less than. I know because I’m an expert at putting myself down. The solution? I think a good place to start is by thinking of two positive things you did, for every negative piece of feedback you give yourself. Try it. When I have done this in the past, it’s worked. Now it’s time to get back to being more fair to myself. I hope you will too.

We have to be cautious, so that we don’t end up chasing the high of leveling up.

If you feel like you are going nowhere, you are wrong. The ship is still moving, you are just unaware of it. Take time to refocus, ask yourself different questions, and see if you don’t start enjoying the journey a little more. Take small steps. We can do this.

Actually, You Aren’t Enough

You Are Enough.

Those three words frustrate me. I don’t always believe in them. For some of us, the goal of perfection has been a burden for quite some time. Some of us jokingly say things like I’m just a perfectionist or I just like to do it right the first time.

Okay. I actually say those things all the time. But, when I fail, I kick myself and sulk. I restart the self-loathing process:

Step 1: Doubt my skills.

Step 2: Envy others who do what I do – seemingly better.

Step 3: Repeat.

Thanks to Twitter, I find myself scrolling through update after update from others who appear to be the champions and celebrities of Student Affairs. Heck, maybe some feel the same way when they peruse my statuses. My self-worth gets tied up into everything I haven’t done, and into every year of experience I don’t have in my field.

I end up not feeling like enough. As if there’s a course on adding more to my personality and my character. Honestly, I wouldn’t want to be someone else, but feeling like I don’t measure up is unsettling.

I tell all this to my support system. They remind me of my strengths, they challenge me to think about my accomplishments, and they push back on my negative thought patterns.

My hope is that each of us has had at least one moment when someone affirmed that what we do/who we are is a good fit for life, let alone our jobs. We haven’t all written an e-book, taught a course, researched/discovered a theory, or presented on a national scale. Do we have to?

When it comes down to it, it might be worth something to ask: “What do I actually want to do” rather than “What should I be doing because x. (x can equal: “it sounds good” ; “others have done it”; “it will get me to the next step”)” I say all this and yet I struggle with feeling like less on some days. It’s part negative thoughts, part my own lived history, and part misguided perspectives on what matters.

On good days, I know I am enough. I feel great doing what I do best: connecting, motivating, and inspiring others. There’s a pep in my step and tiny blue cartoon birds sit on my shoulder. I like the person I see in the mirror and I know I am enough. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m doing what I enjoy without comparing myself others, or if it’s because people-time gives me an endorphin rush, but I like myself in those moments.

I feel like enough when a student opens up to me and confides in me after being reserved for several months. It happens when a co-worker invites me over for dinner. I’m reassured I am enough when I am able to contribute in important meetings, help develop curriculum, successfully run a staff selection, or inspire someone to accept just a little bit about themselves because they listened to my story.

We have done more and are more than we’ll ever know. It’s the grandiose acts, the prolific writings, the innovative ideas generated, and the chart topping accomplishments. It’s the small things and it’s that which exist in the in-between that matters as well. We get to decide what and who defines us.

We get to live a better story for ourselves and others. And on the good days, because there are good days, we get to note that we are enough. Sometimes self-acceptance only exist in a few hiccups of hope at a time.

My hope is that we take hold to those moments, gather them, and tuck them away. Eventually, they will override all the lies we’ve been told about being less than. Sometimes, hiccups will have to do. I’m going to reflect more on being okay with the enough that I am.

What’s your story?