How to Fall Back Without Falling Behind

There’s this quiet pressure a lot of us carry that says if you stop moving, even for a second, you’re going to fall behind.

And I’m not even gonna lie, I felt that this week.

Because I told myself before I got on this trip that I wasn’t going to create anything. Like, at all. I meant that. I wanted a real break from feeling like every moment needed to turn into something. I just wanted to live my life and not think about how it would look, how it would land, or how I could use it later.

Now, I haven’t completely disappeared. I’ve been on my stories, posting little moments, on Threads chatting here and there, just me being out here showcasing my freedom a little bit I guess. But I haven’t recorded anything. I haven’t touched the podcast. I haven’t made anything intentional or structured.

And I wont lie y’all… that’s been throwing me off.

Because I didn’t announce it. I didn’t say, “Hey y’all, I’m taking a break.” I didn’t give it a clean narrative. I just kinda stopped. And when you stop without explaining yourself, you don’t get that reassurance back. You just sitting there like… “Okay so are we good with this or…?”

And there were moments where I felt off. Like I wasn’t moving how I usually move. I’m used to doing something, building something, posting something. So when I paused, it felt like everything else kept going and I just… stepped to the side.

I’d scroll and see people doing their thing and it’s like, damn. Should I be doing more right now?? Am I playing myself? Is this one of those moments where you look up and realize you lowkey fell off? Be honest.

And I had to catch that quick, because that thought will run if you let it.

But the truth is, this trip was never just about taking a break from content.

I didn’t come to New Orleans for a reset. I came because I couldn’t ignore the feeling anymore that my life was wide open in a way that didn’t feel freeing. It felt unstable. And I needed to get honest about that.

I’m not in a crisis. I’m good. But I am in a space where nothing feels locked in. No city (I’m mad indecisive lol). No plan that feels solid. No version of my life that I can point to and say, “yeah, this is it right here.”

Everything feels like it’s in motion in a way that makes you sit up a little straighter.

I left Chicago without something concrete to land on. I’m about to go to Atlanta because it makes sense. I need to stack my money, get back in position, and figure out my next move before I make a bigger one.

There’s no aesthetic way to say that. It just is what it is.

And sitting in that reality forced me to realize something I wasn’t really trying to say out loud.

I didn’t know who I was in this version of my life.

Not the version of me with structure. Not the version of me with a routine or a clear identity. I’m talking about me when things are uncertain. When there’s nothing solid to point to. When I don’t have answers yet.

That version of me felt unfamiliar. Like… “oh, this who we are right now? Okay.”

So I came here to meet her.

I did not come here to meet the old me. BUT also not some fully evolved version either. I’m talking about the in between version. The one that has to make decisions without a blueprint. The one that has to trust herself without proof that everything is going to work out.

Because that’s where I am. Like, right at this very moment.

And if I’m being real, I’ve been trying to rush myself out of this space. Trying to get to the next thing fast so I can feel secure again. Like, “okay what’s next, what’s next, let’s lock something in, let’s stabilize this immediately.”

But that urgency? That’s not wisdom. That’s me feeling uncomfortable and trying to escape it.

And I don’t want to build a life on top of that.

So instead of performing my way through it, I gave myself space. Real space. The kind where I’m not trying to turn every thought into something useful. The kind where I’m not measuring my days by what I produced.

And that’s where the clarity came in.

Not from doing more. From sitting still long enough to actually hear myself.

And whew chileee… that will humble you.

Because it made me ask myself something real. Like real real.

Who are you when nothing about your life looks impressive?

Who are you when you’re not producing, not posting, not proving anything?

And I didn’t want my answer to feel empty.

I want to be someone who knows herself. Someone who feels grounded even when things aren’t figured out. Someone who can sit in her own life and not feel like she’s wasting time.

That matters to me more than staying “on.”

And to you, my dearest gentle reader (big ups to all my Bridgerton watchers lol),

If you’ve been feeling like you’re not doing enough because you’re not constantly showing up, I need you to hear me.

You are not losing your place.

I know what it feels like to look around and feel like everybody is moving and you’re just… there. Like if you don’t hurry up, something is going to pass you. Like you had momentum and now it’s like “wait, hold on, come back.”

That feeling will have you spiraling if you don’t check it.

But there is no version of your life where somebody else can take what has your name on it. That’s not how this works.

What’s yours is yours. Period.

And for me, I had to bring my faith into that, because I can’t say I trust God and still move like everything is about to slip through my fingers if I slow down. I can’t believe I’m covered and still operate from panic. That doesn’t even make sense.

I am still becoming everything I’m meant to be. I am still my ancestors’ wildest dreams. That doesn’t pause just because I did.

So if your life feels wide open right now in a way that makes you a little uneasy, don’t rush out of it just to feel better.

Stand in it. Even if it feels weird. Even if you’re like, “I don’t like thissssuhhh.”

Learn yourself in it.

Because if you can stand solid in a season where nothing feels certain, whatever you build next won’t be fragile.

And that’s worth way more than rushing into something just to say you have it.

Anyways,

Until next time. Byeeee.