Checking In: Reflecting on 2025
Happy New Year! It’s officially 2026!
It might sound cliche but every year I swear I feel more and more sure of myself. Who I am. Where I come from. Where I am going.
Sometime in 2024 I woke up on a random Saturday morning and felt a wave of peace fall over me. Like a loved one giving me a hug and reassuring me of myself. It’s possible I was visited by my ancestors that day and since that visit I have been at peace within myself. Of course I still have bad days. My mind still ventures down dark roads occasionally, but I now have a level of peace that anchors me at my core. That’s the best way I can explain it.
I guess God knew I was going to need that peace for 2025 because 2025 was a challenging year. I left my social work job to step into a caregiver role for my grandma. I published my first sensual poetry book and first ever audiobook! I celebrated 11 years of #survivorhood —thank you, 17-year-old Bre! I submerged myself in griefwork and mentoring Black and Brown kids. I taught an entire elementary school healthy habits by myself. I gained forever friendships that have changed my life. Poetz Portal has become my home base for all things poetry and community. I attended the funeral of my childhood best friend and it changed my life forever—rest in peace, Mela. In May, I watched my oldest nephew walk across the stage to get his diploma, and later watched him start his freshman year of college. I was in a car accident that turned my world upside down for months. I threw myself into creative opportunities. I challenged myself to be a better human and get more involved in the fight for human rights. I trusted myself in all things.
I experienced a lot last year. I grew—mentally, spiritually, and poetically.
In terms of poetry, I completely freed myself of any restraints on my writing. No more trying to make things rhyme or fit a certain structure. I just wrote from my heart and guess what? Everything fell into place. The rhymes came naturally and the structure became sound on its own. I have never felt more empowered as a poet. And my poetry certainly reflects that. I’m working on book #4. More on that later ;)
2025 was a trying year for my relationship. My boyfriend and I experienced stress that almost took us both to a breaking point. Looking back at all the drama of that makes me laugh now, but in the moment it was painful. The physical labor of love was intense. My relationship demanded more of me than ever before. I truly believe that if my boyfriend and I did not have such a solid foundation, our relationship would have crumbled. Again. But this past year of newfound appreciation, patience, understanding, and unconditional love really set us up for success. We really got put to the test in the Summer. Thankfully we passed and were able to settle comfortably into the end of 2025. I’m looking forward to growing together in 2026.
I’m also looking forward to more consistent blogging and expanding my brand. I’m claiming 2026 as my year of sustained growth. Cheers to a New Year!
Let’s grow together :)
Deeply Rooted by Stephanie C. Burton
A few weeks ago I came across a post on Facebook from a former classmate and friend of mine, Stephanie. She was announcing the publishing of her journal “Deeply Rooted: For Black Women Caregivers Growing in Grace, Grounded in Truth,” a digital reflection journal for people like me. As a caregiver for my elderly grandma this journal was calling to me. I purchased a copy, downloaded it easily. But —of course— life started lifin’ and I wasn’t able to dive into it the way I had planned.
The previous blog post I made is about Black women, myself specifically, being labeled “Superwoman.” At the time I wrote the blog post I was completely overwhelmed with responsibilities, commitments, EVERYTHING. The same day I made the post, I opened “Deeply Rooted” from my Google Drive. As I was reading Part 1, everything resonated with me deeply. I realized this journal is just what I needed to navigate the complexities of caregiving, emotional burden, guilt, exhaustion, etc. “Deeply Rooted” is very intentionally and thoughtfully crafted and I know it can help many Black women caregivers. I encourage you to purchase a copy for yourself, a friend, an auntie, or anyone who could benefit from this reflection journal. It will change a life.
To learn more about Stephanie C. Burton and SoulFull by Design, click the link below!
“Superwoman”
I bleed. I break. I cry. And someday I’ll die, just like everyone else.
I was born a Black woman for a reason —for many reasons, really. I think God knew that only a Black woman could love the way I do. Only a Black woman could “handle it all” the way I do. Only a Black woman could nurture community the way I do. So, I was always destined to be a Black woman.
But I also think God made me a Black woman to better understand the world I live in. I’m so independent because I I learned that the world will not soften for me. I’m so hardworking because I learned I have to do 10x as much work for a half-assed thank you. I’m so “put together” because this world does not allow me to fall apart. Instead, I am labeled “Superwoman.”
An unsolicited badge of honor that really comes with no honor at all. Because I am often unappreciated and undervalued. Simply expected to live up to such high expectations because the world demands it. I am commended for powering through grief instead of breaking down. I am praised for crossing my boundaries to make someone else comfortable. I am celebrated for putting my life on the line despite having a family that needs me.
People will say they are so in awe of how I “do it all” and demand something from me in the same breath. There are no days off for Superwoman. There is no rest for Black women. No wonder I am always tired.
My grandma is a Black woman. My grandma is “Superwoman.” At 78, I see what the expectations have done to her. How they have stiffened her aching hands and permanently damaged her shoulders. That is what carrying the weight of the world will do to a Black woman’s body.
At 29, I’m already experiencing the side-effects myself. Sleep deprivation, coffee addiction, anxiety, depression, a conscious desire to disappear just to get a break. My back aches some days, my chest tightens when I’m overwhelmed. But as a Black woman, I’ve accepted the symptoms of society and decided to live anyway. Some would call that rebellion, I call it survival. What other choice do I have?
Liberation
My emotions have been stirring in me for weeks. Everything came to a head last night as I tossed and turned trying desperately to drift off to sleep. I spoke to God, knowing He was working me. But I didn’t know why, just yet. Despite being in emotional discomfort, my body finally gave and sank into the mattress. Waking up was a bit disorienting. It felt as though I had been on a journey but no idea where or how I trekked. No recollection of what I experienced along the way. So, I brewed some coffee as discomfort brewed, again, inside of me. I sat down on my couch. Glanced at the calendar, fully aware of today’s “holiday”. Freedom for some. Not for most. I opened my laptop while my apartment filled with the aroma of caramel truffle coffee and opened a file filled with poetry. I scanned through the documents and landed on the one I’ve been putting off. Poetry for an upcoming performance. The discomfort brewed, again. My coffee maker groaned and rumbled in the background. I took a deep breath and opened the document. I read the first few lines. My chest tightened. I pushed my laptop away and retreated into the safety of a coffee mug. Sipping in silence.
I took a few more deep breaths and returned to the couch. Sank back into the cushion and read my poem with intent. What was I trying to say? What pushed me to write this? Questions I pondered after I read and re-read the poem a few times. I sipped my coffee again. And again. I set my coffee mug down and picked apart each stanza with surgical precision. My eyes locked in on three words: childhood love story. A mild headache pressed into my forehead. My eyes welled up with tears. My shoulders dropped and emotion poured out. This. This is why I wrote the poem. I was trapped in nostalgia, remembering the teenage boyfriend I had over a decade ago. The boyfriend who called me several times a week. The boyfriend who visited me at my childhood home. The boyfriend who spent hours and hours with me doing mostly nothing. The boyfriend who was present. The boyfriend who dedicated so much of his time and energy into me, and us.
This was the boyfriend I had been missing for years. But wow, the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. My boyfriend cannot be that anymore. It’s so unrealistic. When we were teens, our lives were still mostly handled by others. Parents, school, etc. We didn’t have to worry about bills, or finances, or where our next meal was coming from. So, of course we could both be more attentive. Of course we could spend hours of our days together without a care in the world. Life was different then. And life is much different now.
Guilt and grief surged to the surface. I recalled the times I lashed out at my boyfriend. The times I was a tornado of emotion, wrecking everything in my path. Including him. I loathed the memories of times I flirted with the idea of someone else being something my boyfriend could not. And the moments I contemplated trying something new with someone else. Leaving my boyfriend behind. Everything made sense. Now. I was so focused on the stability and security I was providing, that I lost sight of the stability and security my boyfriend provided. Every milestone. He was there. Every hard day. He was there. Every good day. He was there. He always showed up. My vision was tainted with expectation so I couldn’t see how he showed up.
It’s true that he has not always given full effort and there were times when I did feel alone as a result. And that was a big part of why our engagement ended. But I also know, now, that I wanted him to show up a certain way. With flowers and romantic bravado. Instead of appreciating how he did show up. With late night conversation and tenderness. With unwavering support and unconditional love. And the many other ways he still shows up for me. It’s time I appreciate the man I have today instead of yearning for a past version of him. It’s time I took full accountability for my role in my own unhappiness and apologize to my boyfriend for my lack of understanding. It’s time I focus on the present and leave our childhood love story in the past, where it belongs.
God knew what He was doing on this day, July 4, 2025. And I thank Him for providing a long-awaited liberation.
What is Time Fr?
I can’t believe we are already in May of 2025. Wasn’t New Year like…yesterday?! My head is spinning. Per usual, so much has happened as time flies by. This is a recap post and a deep dive into my mental health status.
*Deep breath* Here we go.
I’m gonna break it down by monthly highlights because that just seems easier. February: I completed the finishing touches for TASTE, the audiobook & paperback book, and submitted them both for publishing. I panicked when I realized my original publishing date was not longer a possibility. Definitely cried but then picked myself up and made peace with extending the deadline. (Looking back on it, girl it was never THAT serious, lol. But you were STRESSED!) I hosted a private listening party for TASTE, the audiobook, and shared the stage with two dynamic poets, Poetic Truthz & Lady Wen. That night solidified the reality of my relationships with the creatives I invited. I learned that some creative relationships are 1) purely transactional, meaning those creatives will only show up if money is involved and it is a working project/collab, 2) one-sided and/or not prioritized, meaning that I show up for those creatives more than they ever show up for me and/or I am just an after thought, 3) full of shit, meaning those creatives blow smoke and gas me up but when it comes time for them to actually show up, they won’t, or 4) real and genuine, meaning these creatives really fuck with me and will show up for important events and/or communicate ahead of time if they cannot make it and find ways to still support. Grateful for everyone who showed up and supported me on my special night. I know my support is real. I know my support is genuine. Unfortunately, some people will no longer receive it. Their loss.
March: TASTE, the audiobook & paperback book, dropped March 1st! So many people ordered copies and purchased the audiobook on the different offered platforms. Lots of people shared my book release on socials and spread the word about my book and audiobook drop. I purchased some hard copies and SOLD OUT within 48 hours of them arriving via mail. The support is so incredible and so appreciated. Poetz Portal had our first Fox Island poetry collaboration and it was magical. The connection to nature and poetry really created a healing space. I was truly honored to sit in and share that space with the Kollektiv. I believe it also strengthened our connection as Poetz Portal. Billie Jo celebrated another year around the sun and spent her bday weekend out with her homegirls. I enjoyed being a fly on the wall for that special birthday lunch. And I thanked God for allowing me another year with my grandma. Lots of event collabs in the works. I’m always busy, lol.
April: Whew…the most challenging yet, most rewarding month of 2025 so far. My childhood best friend was killed in a fatal car crash. News that rocked the entire city. The world lost a beacon of light on April 4th and life has not been the same since. I was in a state of disbelief (and I still am). Buying funeral flowers and preparing to attend her funeral was just so surreal. I wished it was a sick, twisted, delayed April Fools Day joke but it was a harsh reality. A finality. The funeral was beautiful and her send off in a horse and carriage was truly a special touch. I love you, Mela, and I’ll continue to pray for your family. LLM. April 12th was the one-year anniversary of my Grandma Isabel’s transition so my family from NY came in town. I hosted my Auntie at my apartment and my mom came and stayed for a few days too. My Grandpa Todd finally made it in town after a flight delay so the party was just getting started! We went to wineries, museums, food, food, and more food! It really was a beautiful way to celebrate family and cherish the moments we have with each other. April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month so I was involved in many different events and movements. One of my favorites is the YWCA’s “Speak Your Truth” survivor mic night. My NY family was in town to witness my growth and celebrate my survivorhood so it was an extra special evening. Honestly, this SAAM has been the most enriching and empowering. I connected with so many survivors and was honored to be a part of a fellow survivor’s book launch. 17-year-old Bre would be so proud! Fashion Show practices for the Art of Fashion show at the Fort Wayne Museum of Art have been super impactful. I’m building new family connections and challenging myself to be a runway model for the first time ever. Maybe 2025 is my year of growth. Maybe 2025 is my year!
May: SO MUCH GOING ON. Fashion Show on May 5th. A podcast interview on May 9th. “Lovers & Pens” poetry vs. RnB showcase on May 17th. Poetz Portal poetry circles and collaborations. A family ATL Trip for my oldest nephew’s graduation. SO. MUCH. GOING. ON. Check the blog for updates!
*Another deep breath*
Okay, with so much going on, how am I doing mentally? Like honestly? Well, that is a loaded question. The short answer is, not well. I am so busy that my mental health often gets placed on the back burner. No amount of tangible self-care will ever suffice. I can’t write new poetry, my past has come back to laugh at me. If I’m being honest, I knew that shit was coming. I feel stupid. I feel anxious. I feel unsure of the future. I feel so intensely that running from feeling is easier than sitting in it. So, what is going on? Well, death and the fear of it has been looming in the background. Fear of the unknown and unexpected. Crazy how life can just evaporate like *snap* that. I’ve also entertained the idea of death providing release. Complicated to explain. I am not suicidal. I am not contemplating my existence. I am just hoping to figure out answers for loved ones who have passed. Like I said, complicated to explain.
I feel frustrated. My poetry pen flows for collaborations but runs dry when I want to release. I’ve only managed to squeeze out one poem since my friend’s death. Poetry is my lifeblood so being abruptly cut off from it pains me. I’m trying to remain patient but then I ask, is it patience I need? Or do I really need to just sit in my feelings? I’m frustrated even typing out these questions. I’m considering ending the post here …but I won’t. Since I can’t write poetry, a blog post will have to do for now to help me release.
Love. God. My stomach is turning. Why the fuck is it so fucking complicated? Why is it that the same person who can bring you such joy, can also bring immense darkness? Long story short, love is exactly where it was in July 2022. Right before the collapse of a 5-year relationship. Same issues. Same questions. Same “I don’t knows.” This is where I feel shame and try to push away the hurt by recalling recent outings & dates or moments of happiness. As if they can excuse the reality of my relationship. But they can’t. Truth is, I feel alone. My needs are not fulfilled. I am not happy. So why do I stay? Well, the love for my boyfriend is unconditional and he’s really all I know. Crazy. ‘Cause I’ve put myself back in a box after I said I would burn it and never look back. I’m almost 30 and still lovesick over puppy love from childhood. I know that people break up for more reasons than cheating and abuse. And thankfully, I have never experienced this with my boyfriend. The sense of safety and security he brings is another reason I stay. I know that people have simply outgrown each other and ultimately fell out of love. It’s possible this is what is happening with us. I don’t know.
Truth is, I feel my boyfriend needs me. I am the calm in his storms and a constant. But I am starting to realize, maybe I am just a crutch. Maybe he can’t figure out his life because I am always there to save him. Saving he never asks for. Saving I just provide because I love him and can’t stand to see him struggle. But how can someone who is always in survival mode truly love you the way you deserve?
July 2022, my priorities shifted from marriage and family to pursuing a creative career. I dove head first into open mics, poetry meet ups, showcases, podcasts, music, collaborations, visual art, etc. And I fell in love with creating in a way I never expected. This newfound creative career aspiration has been difficult to navigate with my boyfriend. I was previously a homebody and was rarely busy other than work or family gatherings. Now, I’m in studios, clubs, cafes, all over the city to immerse myself in creativity. I’m busy. As fuck. And this has been challenging for him to get used to since he is a homebody and prefers to be out the way.
Long story short, it’s complicated. And I just want us to figure it the fuck out.
Thought that was all? Lol. No. I can feel something coming. Like another evolution or some major life change. I don’t know what it is and I don’t know if it’s positive or negative change. I just know that I’m going to be uncomfortable during this period of growth. When I left my full time job to become a part time caregiver for my grandma, everything shifted. My finances shifted. My priorities shifted. My life shifted. I’ve been living my life with more freedom and I’m enjoying it! But all good things must come to an end. I know my finances will get to a point where I have to start working elsewhere (even if it’s part time) and I know my freedom can only last so long due to my limited finances. I’m preparing myself (as best as I can) and trying to remain positive. All I know is, no matter the change, life goes on.
I really want to be intentional this month and focus on my mental health. It’s time I slow down and block out the distractions to really sit in my feelings. I need to figure out my next steps in so many areas of my life. If you made it this far, thank you for reading all the way through! May is Mental Health Awareness Month so, prioritize your mental health!
*New poem on the Poems page*