Radiance: The Courage to Be Seen

Lake Marion- Santee, South Carolina

July 1, 2026

Every month since 2026 started has had a word.

Not just a color or a theme for social media, but an intention. It has been a reminder of who I wanted to become as I continued healing, leading, parenting, serving my community, and rebuilding parts of myself that life had shaken and I allowed to be stolen from me.

As I look back over the first half of this year, I realize something beautiful.

None of these months were about necessarily becoming someone new.

They were about returning to myself. They were already parts of me that I had hidden or rather hadn’t fully embraced because I was busy pouring into people and areas not pouring into me.

January: Grounded (Brown/Tan)

The year began with a simple invitation: be grounded. That to me meant I needed to be still for a moment and breathe. Sit with some things from years prior and think. January started off with what I thought was great– or so I believed. I was able to be at peace and communicate my wants and needs while also respecting the same for others. Then life (and people) began responding to those changes in ways I didn’t expect. When you are in a space of growth and wanting better, that doesn’t always register with those around you. What you think is a good thing that can bring about positivity, begins to challenge the psyche and emotions of others. And the ground that you are standing on, the soil that you were trying to till becomes muddy. 

See, I’ve been a fixer for sometime. I decided back in October 2025 up through December 20, 2025, when I created my blueprint for 2026 that I didn’t want to do that anymore. I wanted to ground my energy and water myself while also being present for others but allowing them to water themselves without my nurturing and continuous pouring.

January made me realize- I couldn’t control everyone else’s choices, but I could control where I planted my feet.

Grounding wasn’t glamorous. It looked like showing up to work when life was heavy. It looked like continuing to serve my community, raising my son into adulthood, preparing him for college, paying bills, sitting through difficult emotions, not loving less but loving differently and remembering that stability isn’t the absence of storms- it’s learning to stand in them.

I learned that roots grow in the dark. And in January darkness came over me.

February: Clarity (Ice Blue/White)

Then came clarity. Not the kind that arrives all at once. The kind that slowly removes the fogginess. Some truths were painful. I began to see things I wasn’t seeing clearly for some time. And it ached. Some people showed me who they really were. Some spaces forced me to ask difficult questions. 

Did I feel safe? 

Was I being valued?

Was I accepting potential instead of reality?

But it doesn’t stop there. Clarity was also about me too. I had to look at where I had been overextending myself, where I confused being needed with being valued, and where I accepted responsibilities that were never mine to carry. It challenged me to think differently about choosing. Choosing is about worth. Does someone choose you because they see your worth? Do you choose yourself because you see your own worth? Both things can be true. You can choose yourself and others but for me choosing myself first meant that I could not overextend. Again not loving less, just loving differently. 

I also found myself asking different questions.

Where was I pouring from an empty cup?

What was I holding onto simply because I’d invested so much time?

Was I creating peace, or just managing chaos?

Was I making room for reciprocity, or had I become comfortable carrying more than my share?

Was I feeling guilty for not helping to carry others, or chase what they wanted instead of chase my own wants and desires first?

Clarity isn’t always comforting. Sometimes clarity breaks your heart before it heals it. And once I saw, I couldn’t unsee anymore.

March: Growth (Olive Green)

Growth rarely feels graceful while it’s happening. It’s uncomfortable. It’s daunting, It stretches.

It asks you to release identities and patterns you’ve outgrown. Break generational cycles.

This season reminded me that healing isn’t measured by whether you stop hurting.

It’s measured by how differently you respond to the hurt. Your actions. Anger is ok. Disappointment is ok.  Grief is ok. What matters is what we choose to do with those emotions. Do we allow them to be opportunities for growth or excuses to exhibit behaviors that are harmful and hurt ourselves and others?

I realized that growth wasn’t about becoming someone who doesn’t hurt, I’m human. I actually have feelings lol. It was about being someone that in spite of my hurt feelings, didn’t allow it to dictate my behavior. I could be angry without being volatile. Disappointed without being destructive in words or actions. Words hurt. And when things are said you can’t take them back. You can apologize and be accountable for them. Which is something I often do but isn’t always reciprocated to me at least not in action- which for me is what determines your growth. Words first followed by the action to match.

 I grew up in toxic environents. Growth is saying I choose not to be a product of my environment. I may struggle to get it right but that’s the thing, I work at it constantly. Growth wasn’t a destination I reached from thin air, it was a conscientious decision to choose better daily. Growth meant choosing boundaries over people-pleasing. Choosing peace over proving. Choosing myself without apology. Choosing to allow others to show me that choosing yourself is ok and that it does not define your love, in fact it works in tandem with one another.

April: Renewal (Soft Pink/Soft Green)

Renewal wasn’t about forgetting my hurt. It wasn’t about pretending that everything I set out to accomplish and ground myself in was magically restored. It wasn’t even about having all the answers. Renewal was about realizing that I had done all that I could do. I said what needed to be said. And when I had more left to say that I couldn’t force it to be respected, honored or even heard. I showed up the best way I knew how. I loved the best way I could. And then I let people choose how they chose to receive it. That was one of the hardest things I’d ever done. To reach and not be received. To show up and be rejected.

April felt like renewed strength. I had to become soft with myself. I wore pink this month as a symbol of emotional healing and softness. 

May: Expansion (Yellow)

Expansion wasn’t about doing more. It was about thinking bigger. Bigger in what though? I didn’t understand what that meant at first. Somewhere along the way, I realized that I had spent years helping to build others' lives, expanding their reach, showing them that their talents, skills, and desires were possible to be achieved. But May showed me what was possible for me when I chose myself fully. It asked me a simple but life-changing question:

 “What would happen if the same efforts, energy and belief that I so freely and lovingly poured into everyone else, I poured into myself?”

Expansion wasn’t comfortable. I was being pulled into and out of certain spaces to grow and it felt weird. I’m a person that thrives in the light but I felt myself stepping back and allowing space for others to expand while I was in the background in their lives. My leadership has been expanding yes, but, my journey is different now as I am entering into a new season of transitions and some people may or may not understand. Fact is I have been trying to process and understand it myself. 

I watched my oldest son graduate high school, which in all honesty was rough for us both. The challenges that we endured during his high school years was enough to make me want to pull out my hair. But we made it through. It reminded me that it’s not always how you start but how you finish, and that life can change in the blink of an eye. As I celebrated him stepping into adulthood and his next chapter, I had to come to terms with the fact that I too was stepping into a new chapter and I didn’t have all the answers. Nor did it look the way I had imagined for years.

Expansion meant I had to step into who I was being prepared to be all along. Expanding my mindset and outcomes.

June: Flow (Sea Green/Turquoise Blue)

June carried one word:

Flow.

It meant Ease. Alignment. Emotional honesty. Less forcing. More trusting. More allowing life to move.

This was honestly the hardest lesson of all. I’m someone who naturally solves problems. 

I organize. I fix. I advocate. I fight for people.

But June whispered something different.

What if not everything requires your effort? What if healing isn’t found by chasing answers?

What if peace arrives when you stop gripping so tightly?

What if what you always wanted isn’t ready to be within your reach yet?

Flow didn’t mean life became easy. Far from it.

There were moments of grief. Honestly- LOTS.

Moments of disappointment.

Moments when I had to sit with unanswered questions instead of demanding immediate resolution.

There were spaces that made me confront the difference between loving and losing myself trying to save others.

There were moments when I realized that I had to allow others to grow outside of me. I had to realize closure doesn’t always come from another person’s growth and apology.

Sometimes closure comes from your own acceptance.

June taught me emotional honesty.

Not pretending everything was okay. Not rushing my healing. Not minimizing my pain.

But also refusing to let pain become my identity. I cried so much this month. Like sobbing. Remembering what it felt like to love, to feel loved, to have, to not have, to lose, to shift. And it was a tidal wave of emotions.

I reflected. I prayed. I journaled. I had conversations that challenged me.

I examined my own patterns alongside the patterns I observed in others.

I stopped asking, “Why did this happen?” “Where did I go wrong?”

And started asking, “What is this teaching me?”

That’s a very different question.

And it produces very different answers. Especially, when some of the answers can’t be answered by you alone.

Flow reminded me that life doesn’t always flow in the direction you force it, it flows in the direction that it’s meant to go. My emotions flowed, outcomes flowed in different ways. And yet, I’m simply moving with the tide.

Eventually, they find their way.

So will I.

July: Radiance (Orange/Gold)

Now we arrive here.

July.

My new word.

Radiance.

Power.

Warmth.

Presence.

Radiance isn’t about being the loudest person in the room.

It’s about no longer shrinking to make other people comfortable.

It’s about allowing the light that’s always been there to finally be seen. I know my worth, even if others don’t appreciate it or see it.

As we move toward Leo season, I can’t ignore the symbolism.

Leo energy isn’t just confidence.

It’s authenticity. It’s heart.

It's a creative expression.

It’s leadership without apology.

It’s remembering that you don’t have to earn permission to shine.

For so long, I thought strength meant carrying everything.

Now I know strength also looks like receiving. I welcome being on  the receptive end for once.

Resting. Laughing. (Maybe even crying a bit). Creating.

Being fully present.

Radiance means walking into rooms without wondering whether I belong.

It means speaking with confidence instead of constantly questioning myself.

It means celebrating my accomplishments without feeling guilty.

It means allowing joy to exist even while parts of life remain unfinished and ambiguous. 

Because healing isn’t waiting until everything is perfect.

Healing is choosing to live while the story is still being written.

What I’m Leaving Behind

I’m leaving behind the need to force outcomes.

The need to convince people of my worth.

The habit of carrying responsibilities that don’t belong to me.

The belief that love requires self-abandonment.

The fear of being misunderstood.

The version of me that believed being smaller made other people more comfortable.

What I’m Carrying Forward

I’m carrying wisdom.

Discernment.

Compassion.

Boundaries.

Faith.

Peace.

And a quiet confidence that no relationship, friendship, opportunity, title, or circumstance can define my value.

My light has never depended on someone else’s ability to recognize it.

Here’s to Radiance

This month, I choose visibility.

I choose authenticity.

I choose courage.

I choose joy.

I choose to stop dimming my light because someone else prefers darkness.

If the first half of the year taught me how to root myself…

Then I believe the second half will teach me how to bloom.

Not because everything around me has changed to how I want it. 

But because I have. And I hope that my change is accepted not as a lack of love but as love that doesn’t self-abandon.

Here’s to July.

Here’s to radiance.

Here’s to becoming impossible to hide, not because I demand attention, but because I’ve finally learned to stop hiding from my own light.