“Doesn’t Mean I’m Lonely When I’m Alone”

Even when I’m alone, I’ve never truly felt lonely.
Not once. Not ever.

And I can remember far back.

It’s never just been me.
There has always been presence.
Always been company.
A quiet kind of companionship—felt, not seen.

Only recently did I begin to understand it.

When I started praying aloud in my home, something shifted.
The presence I had always sensed… became known.

Seventeen years later, I spoke the words, “I miss my best friend.”
And my sister gently told me,
“She never left. Grandma has always been with you.”

And in that moment… I realized—
I’ve felt her all along.

And if my grandmother is with me,
then my mother has been with me too.
All 24 years of my life without her physical presence.

There is so much that makes me.
So much that lives within me.

As I approach 30, I’ve come to see something deeper—
my mother had me the year she turned 29.
Her mother had her at 29.

Not coincidence…
but a kind of clarity.

A reminder that life may appear patterned,
but it is also evolving—
and I am part of that evolution.

I’ve always known there was something within me.

As a child, I felt connected to Mary—
not in the way of giving birth to Jesus,
but in the knowing of being chosen as a vessel.

A vessel for something meaningful.
Something that creates lasting change.

As I write this, I’m in tears.

Because this truth has lived inside of me for so long—
and I have never spoken it out loud until now.

This… is my voice.
And my knowing is my peace.

I am not perfect.
I am not a virgin.
But I am still chosen.

I know I am.

So when others try to tell me who to be,
I can receive it with grace—
but I am guided by something deeper.
Something constant.
Something eternal.

There are parts of me that cannot be shaken.

I am royalty.
My body is phenomenal—it amazes me daily.
My spirit… my spirit is strong.

Steadfast against weakness,
yet soft.
Bold, yet calm.

She is wondrous.

She has always been.
And she will always be.

Just as the next daughter will be—
because we all wear crowns, whether we remember it or not.

Documenting What I Know So Far

There’s something about starting that always unsettles me.

Not because I don’t know what to do…but because I start thinking about everything at once.

What this should become. How it should look. Who it should reach.

And somewhere in that, I lose the simplicity of why I wanted to begin in the first place.

So I’m choosing something different.

I’m not starting as a blog expert. I’m not starting this with a perfect plan.

I’m starting this as a practice.

A place where I can document what I know, what I’m learning, and what I’m becoming- without the pressure of having it all figured out. Because the truth is… some of the most meaningful things I’ve learned did not come from certainty. They came from paying attention.

To my body. To my emotions. To the patterns in my life.

So this space will hold that.

Not perfection. Not performance. Just awareness.

Whatever grows from that… I trust it will be exactly what it needs to be. ✨