The Queen’s Quill

One thing people don’t talk about enough is the emotional impact of doing “the right things” financially and still struggling.

Saving money.
Being responsible.
Separating accounts.
Planning ahead.
Trying to think long-term.
Avoiding reckless decisions.

And then one day realizing:
the math is no longer mathing.

For the past couple of years, I’ve been navigating the reality of being significantly underemployed while also deeply burned out.

At one point, my annual income dropped by around $24,000.

That changes things.

Not always dramatically at first.
Sometimes slowly.

You start withdrawing from savings.
Moving money around.
Trying to make strategic decisions.
Trying to buy yourself time while also hoping the next opportunity finally stabilizes things.

But eventually reality sets in:
you cannot continuously withdraw without replenishing.

Eventually the accounts get lower.
Eventually the stress grows louder.
Eventually even “responsible people” start feeling scared.

And then comes the mental loop.

Replaying:
“How did I get here?”
Over and over again like somehow the math is mysteriously going to change if you analyze it long enough.

Trying to pinpoint the exact decision.
The exact moment.
The exact turn where things shifted.

Especially high achievers.

Because somewhere along the way we absorbed the message that if we were smart enough, disciplined enough, organized enough, or hardworking enough, we should be able to keep everything together indefinitely.

But life is more complicated than that.

Burnout is expensive.
Transitions are expensive.
Healing is expensive.
Trial and error is expensive.
Learning financial literacy later in life can be expensive.
Trying to rebuild while exhausted can be expensive.

And honestly? Sometimes the options genuinely do feel like they keep hitting walls.

You try one thing.
Then another.
Then another.

You tell yourself:
“Just keep pushing.”
“Just hold it together a little longer.”
“Just survive this season.”

Meanwhile your nervous system is deteriorating under the pressure of trying to emotionally and financially sustain yourself at the same time.

One of the hardest truths for me to accept is that part of my struggle was not simply financial irresponsibility.

Some of it was burnout.
Some of it was lack of guidance.
Some of it was survival mode decision-making.
Some of it was trying to recover from years of emotional exhaustion while still needing to function.

And some of it is simply the reality that many people are struggling financially right now, even the responsible ones.

That realization softened some of my self-judgment.

Because for a long time I carried guilt about not being able to “hold it together” perfectly.

But maybe the goal was never perfection.

Maybe the goal was survival, learning, recalibration, and eventually building a softer, more sustainable life.

I’m still learning.
Still rebuilding.
Still figuring some things out.

But I no longer believe financial struggle automatically means personal failure.

Sometimes it means you’ve been carrying too much for too long without enough support, margin, or rest.

And sometimes the bravest thing a person can do is tell the truth:
“This season has been hard.”

One of the hardest things to explain is the moment you realize you are tired of surviving.

Not lazy.
Not ungrateful.
Not incapable.

Just…tired.

Tired of always figuring it out.
Tired of carrying everything.
Tired of functioning at high levels while quietly unraveling behind the scenes.
Tired of acting like constant pressure is normal.

I think for a long time I romanticized endurance.

Being “the strong one.”
The capable one.
The adaptable one.
The one who could survive transitions, stress, uncertainty, multiple jobs, financial pressure, emotional disappointments, and still somehow keep moving.

And to be fair, that strength carried me through a lot.

But lately I’ve started noticing something uncomfortable:

I no longer want a life built entirely around resilience.

That realization comes with grief.

Because when survival becomes part of your identity, softness can feel unfamiliar.
Even suspicious.

You start wondering:
Who am I if I’m not constantly overcoming something?
Who am I if life becomes slower?
Safer?
More stable?
More supported?

I’ve spent so much of my adult life taking care of myself that receiving care still catches me off guard.

Someone making sure I eat.
Someone asking if I made it home.
Someone noticing I’m tired before I admit it.
Friends stepping in without me having to perform strength first.

Those things should probably feel ordinary.

But for people who learned early that survival was their responsibility, gentleness can feel deeply emotional.

Lately I’ve realized I don’t actually want a dramatic life.

I want peace.
I want softness.
I want consistency.
I want a home that feels settled.
Work that feels sustainable.
Relationships where I can exhale.
Space to laugh, rest, create, and simply exist without constantly preparing for impact.

And maybe that’s the real transition happening right now.

Not just career changes or location changes.

But the quiet unraveling of the belief that my worth is tied to how much stress I can endure.

Maybe healing looks like learning that I can still be valuable even when I’m resting.

Maybe adulthood is not supposed to feel like emotional triathlon training every day.

Maybe strength is not disappearing.

Maybe strength is finally choosing a life that no longer requires me to stay braced all the time.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about food.

Not in a diet culture way.
Not in a “summer body” way.
More in a:
“What does nourishment feel like when your nervous system has spent years in survival mode?” kind of way.

Growing up, I was always small.

And people noticed.

Kids can be cruel, but sometimes adults leave marks too.

I remember always keeping a jacket on. One day a school secretary looked at me and said:
“You’re trying to hide your body.”

I still remember how exposed I felt in that moment.

Then there were the nicknames:
Walking Stick.
Skinny Minnie.
Pippi Longstocking.

A few others not worth mentioning. 

People said them casually, jokingly, but when you’re young, comments about your body have a way of settling into your spirit.

Especially when you’re already sensitive.

The truth is, I’ve never been a big eater.

I’m the girl asking for a to-go box before everybody else is halfway done.
The one who eats slowly.
The one with specific preferences.
The one who doesn’t like a lot of spice.
The picker.

And when stress enters the picture?
My appetite is usually the first thing to disappear.

Not intentionally.
Not as control.
Not vanity.

My body just…shuts down.

Over the past few weeks, I realized how much stress I’ve actually been carrying because eating became hard again.

Nothing sounded good.
I would forget to eat.
Or I would know I needed food but feel too overwhelmed to figure out what to make.

It’s strange how emotional nourishment can become.

Lately though, my appetite has slowly been returning.

Not because life suddenly became perfect.
But because care started showing up in small ways.

Home-cooked meals.
Friends asking me what I plan to eat for the day.

Friends asking what can I bring you back. 
People making me identify an actual meal plan instead of surviving on caffeine and vibes.

And honestly? Cooking for another person is such an intimate act of care.

Especially when the person is:
a picky eater,
a low-appetite girl,
sensitive,
stressed,
and still learning that she deserves nourishment even when she’s overwhelmed.

There’s something healing about someone remembering:
“She doesn’t like a lot of spice.”
“She probably needs a to-go box.”
“She eats small portions.”
“She still needs to eat anyway.”

For so long, food felt tied to awareness of my body.
To comments.
To stress.
To survival.

But maybe nourishment can also become tied to gentleness.

To safety.
To slowing down.
To laughter over burgers and fries.
To being cared for without criticism.

Maybe healing sometimes looks like your appetite quietly returning after being gone for a while.

Maybe it looks like finally feeling safe enough to be hungry again.

These words come as they are—wandering, wondering, and weaving themselves into meaning.

 May one of these reflections speak to you at the exact moment you need it. 

Instead of creating what I want to see and experience I keep allowing the limiting beliefs to hold me hostage. Why am I not leaning into those moments whenever possible?

Why am I not doing the things that bring me joy consistently?

Why deny myself in that manner? 

Literally settling for the doom and gloom rhetoric…

Letting the “rules” keep me in place. 

Rules created by others and myself.

Often times my rules were way harsher than others.

Staying power. 

We often celebrate staying in a place.

Whether that place is jobs, relationships, other…

Longevity. 

There are times that staying isn’t anything to celebrate because it’s hurting you.

 As soon as we that 5th red flag, go ahead and get up out of that situation. 

I said 5 because you may be like me and just ignore the flags like we’re at Six Flags over Georgia…

I’ve stayed in places too long. 

Why?

I worried about how it will look or sound 

Feeling like leaving early meant I gave up too quick 

Thinking it’s a failure…

Obsessed with quantity over quality. 

What if you stayed 14 years but you suffered, lost yourself, got ill, stalled yourself, didn’t enjoy yourself? 

Do we still celebrate the longevity? 

Just so many rules that my creativity is imprisoned. 

Scared to live, to make mistakes…

Yet knowing the gift and talent is there….

In my last threapy session we talked about me remembering to bring my trophy with me. I won! I am winning even when it looks and feel like I’m losing! 

Allowing myself to dream without a budget because on faith I know my God can do anything but fail me. 

I deserve to live a life of joy. You do too. 

Just some random and unscripted thoughts on a Saturday…

✨ Running Thoughts ✨

These are just the unfiltered places my mind wanders. No outline, no agenda—just me capturing the thoughts/reflections as they come.

• We should do one thing that’s scary each day. Ok, that’s a stretch I’m good with one thing a month…it can result in at least 12 new things 
• Connections are key
• Count it all joy; where God guides He provides (Isaiah 58:11)
• Part of leadership is getting people to buy into the vision you have
• Don’t let the environment/setting influence how you show up and the efforts you put forward. Whether positioned in a large corner office, a repurposed closet or cubicle. Focus on the fact that you’re in the building. Settings are temporary. Authenticity should not be.
  • A title is just a title. Don’t allow that title to limit your contributions. 
  • I’ve been in the nice office with a fancy title. I was miserable. Those walls were silent observers of the tears and frustration. After feeling as if I’ve been abused by the pursuit of leadership roles I said I was done with leadership roles. A friend said, “no; once a leader, always a leader. No matter your title, people will see your innate skills. 
• Sisterhood is a powerful thing. 
• “Get out and smell the roses”-Ms. Evelyn
• “You could be sitting on generational wealth but you won’t jump off the porch”-My sister Alecia
• How can I be afraid to tell man no for fear of his response, but I boldly tell God “no” or “get someone else”. 
• What if being vulnerable is what’s needed in this moment in order to go higher.
• Make the outfit work. You cute! You handsome! 
• We are always waiting. Do it now. We always say “oh when xyz is in place…I’ll do it.” But what about the abcdef…..other variables that we don’t even know to account for…
• You filter matters….what filter are you using to cover yourself and this situation?
• We are living for others and not living for ourselves.
• We are living based on a narrative someone else created who doesn’t know your true self

These are just the unfiltered places my mind wanders. No outline, no agenda—just me capturing the thoughts as they come.

Often a man and a woman rush from moment to moment

Attempting to soak up every second together 

Rushing as if the sand will run out and they must make the most of this time 

Shallow things can not withstand storms. They will be shaken and blown away

But what happens when man and woman stop rushing and stop focusing on “time” 

What God brings together in His time no one can unhinge…

What’s rooted with God as the center can stand strong against the storms that will come. 

November 2023 Thoughts

This question has come up in some way for the past couple of months.

”Jump off the porch”…..”Just do it”. 

These have been the responses and encouragement from friends. This morning in conversation the question “what are you waiting for” came up. Laughingly my boss told me to make sure I post this one. 

How many of you have asked God for a sign? “God send me a sign if this is what you want me to do”. 5 signs later and we’re still like “God send me a sign”. Even after all the signs we still go to everyone else for their confirmation, encouragement and validation. 

I often say I have delayed obedience. How long can we delay obedience? Why is it that when a random person asks us to do something we instantly agree. We rarely ask any questions. It’s immediate obedience. Yet, when it comes to God we get to bargaining and telling Him under what circumstances we will be obedient. 

There is no reason I should be dragging my feet. I should have moved the first time He gave me the assignment. 

What’s the thing you know that you know you should be doing? What are you waiting for? We live life with a lot of audacity. We have the audacity to tell God when and how we will do things. 

My prayer today is that we will be obedient. That we have a “we get to” attitude when it comes to being obedient to God. We’ve been cleared for take off and we’re just sitting on the run way. Help remove the fear that is preventing you from taking action. 

-March 2024

In the quest for personal and spiritual growth, there’s a common misconception that we must reach a state of perfection before we are worthy of divine interaction. Society has prescribed what and how our interactions with God should look like. The perfection belief can create a sense of inadequacy and deter us from seeking a higher connection. However, the truth is much more reassuring and compassionate: Don’t wait until you’re perfect—God wants to interact with you just where you are now. If you were perfect, would you need God? 

The Myth of Perfection

Perfection is a myth; a horizon that keeps moving farther away as we approach it. Striving for excellence is admirable, but when it transforms into an obsession with perfection, it becomes a barrier to progress. The belief that you must be flawless to deserve God’s attention is not only untrue; it runs contrary to the fundamental principles of many faiths.

 God’s Invitation for Interaction

The essence of most spiritual paths is the notion that the divine seeks a relationship with us, as we are. God doesn’t require us to reach an impossible standard. Instead, there’s a gentle encouragement: Just keep trying. It’s in our attempts, our struggles, and even our failures that we find the most profound opportunities for growth and connection.

 The Mutual Search

A beautiful aspect of spirituality is the reciprocal seeking between humans and the divine. He’s seeking you just as you’re seeking Him. There is a sacred dance of sorts, where every step you take toward the divine is met with an encompassing embrace. This dynamic connection ensures that no matter where we are on our journey, we are not alone.

Grace and Mercy: The Gifts of Imperfection

Recognizing our imperfections doesn’t lead us to despair; rather, it brings us to an understanding of God’s generous nature. He gives us grace and mercy—two powerful gifts that allow us to face our human limitations without fear. Grace is the unwarranted favor that blesses us despite our flaws, and mercy is the compassion shown to us even when we falter.

In the tapestry of life, our imperfections are not stains to be removed but rather threads that add depth and texture to the whole. Grace and mercy reassure us that our imperfections are accounted for, and still, we are loved and valued.

Moving Forward with Confidence

If you find yourself postponing spiritual communion because you’re “not ready” or “not good enough,” remember that it is not perfection that qualifies us for divine interaction—it’s our very human nature. The emphasis should not be on a faultless existence but on a heartfelt effort to grow, learn, and connect. In that effort, you will find not only the essence of your spirituality but also the embrace of the divine.

Inviting You As You Are

As you move through life with its inherent chaos and challenges, know that you are being called to a unique and enduring relationship with God—one that is inclusive, nurturing, and accepting. You don’t have to be perfect; you just have to be you. Through every hardship and every joy, God is there, extending grace, mercy, and an invitation to a deeper connection. Just keep trying, and trust that your efforts are both seen and cherished.

Hey friends!

It might be the adult beverage or just the feeling that something different needed to happen tonight.

Auntie is outside…literally LOL

I finally decided I would use the fire pit I purchased last fall. At my last house I had a fire pit as well. Never used it. I can distinctly remember selling it during my garage sale. I also distinctly remember getting ready to purchase my current home and being like dang…I wish I would have kept some of that stuff! One of my good sisters has already said we will NOT have another garage sale like that LOL 

Can we have a moment of honesty? Things have been hard. I won’t dive into my own stuff right now…but I know I’m not the only one. I know many of my friends are feeling exhausted..weary…confused…anxious…angry…and so many other heavy emotions. I don’t mean to speak for you…but I confidently say a majority of us are craving some sense of normalcy. 

Do we even know what is “normal” at this point…

Tonight as I sit on my back porch listening to violin covers of some of my favorite R&B jamz, star gazing and simply breathing in fresh air…I chose to sit in this moment and simply be.

As I looked around I thought about how each home contains an individual or family that is dealing with something. Each holds their unique story. 

They too may be weathering their own personal storm right now. If they’re like me they’re thankful it’s finally the weekend after another long week. They may have a similar simple prayer: please don’t go by too fast. 

Are you up for a quick challenge? 

I will just assume you said yes. 

Find space (no specific time limit) to simply be this weekend.

Sit in the moment.

Be still. 

Enjoy the silence.

Don’t rush. 

Be observant.

Check in with you.

More importantly check in with Him. 

Darkness is often equated with scariness, the unknown and many other negative connotations.  

I challenge you to find the light in the darkness.

Even on a September night in the country South there are twinkles of light in the vast dark sky. 

In the midst of my own storm, it seems so dark…

But I KNOW there is light.

I just have to choose to find it.  

I pray you choose to find it as well.

May the next 48 hours be exactly what you need them to be. 

Sincerely,

Queen Quill

Disclaimer: This post may contain minor grammatical or typographical errors. The focus is on sharing ideas and insights rather than perfection in writing.

Friendly reminder: If something I shared resonates with you, share it with at least one other person…make a connection 💛